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GXI^U 


THE    ACTOR; 


or; 


A    PEEP    BEHIND    THE    CURTAIN 


iSeing  |)ass(iges  in  tlje  £it)w  of 


BOOTH 


AND   SOME  OF  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES. 


"  All  the  world's  af  stage, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players : 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts/* 

Jia  you  Like  It, 


NEW  YORK: 
WM.    H.    GRAHAM,    TRIBUNE    BUILDINGS. 

SOLD  BY  LITTLE   AND   WEAD,   469  BROADWAY, 
AND   ALL   THE  PRINCIPAL  BOOKSELLERS. 

1846. 

PRICE    FIFTY    CENTS. 


t) 


THE 


A  C  TOE; 


OR, 


A    PEEP    BEHIND    THE    CURTAIN 


B^ng  ipassages  in  tije  %\Xitz  of 


BOOTH 


AND    SOME  OF  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES. 


"  All  the  world's  a  stage, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players : 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts/* 

Aa  you  Like  It. 


NEW  YORK: 
WM.    H.    GRAHAM,    TRIBUNE     BUILDINGS. 

1846,   ,      ^ 


.  H  1  A  T  HU  O    3  H  "]     0  H  ^  ^-1  'S  H    H3  ^^^    A. 


'in  a&i^f'3.  ^^A  ni.  m 


Copyright  secured  according  to  Law. 


/iljl«lA  «»%!■' 


B.  CRAIGHKAD,  PRIMTKR,  112  FULTON  STREKT. 


pn 


'4imkm  leqi; 


^HlTf 


,;  PREFACE. 


The  Author  of  the  following  pages,  several  years  since, 
contemplated  the  production  of  a  Biography  of  Junius 
Brutus  Booth,  and  with  that  end  in  view,  wrote  several 
chapters,  which,  with  material  alterations,  are  embraced  in 
the  present  volume. 

Subsequent  events,  however,  induced  him  to  modify  the 
character  of  the  work,  having  in  the  meantime  become 
possessed  of  many  facts  and  incidents  relative  to  the 
Drama  and  those  connected  with  it,  which  he  believed 
would  prove  interesting  to  the  public. 

Rather  than  re- write  what  he  had  already  written,  he 
retained  Mr.  Booth  as  his  hero,  and  blended  such  other  in- 
formation with  his  subject,  as  could  be  gleaned  from  the 
materials  at  his  command. 

The  larger  portion  of  the  work  has  been  produced  at 
night,  after  a  more  laborious  occupation  during  the  day. 
Conscious  of  its  numerous  faults,  the  author  is  still  persuaded 
that  it  will  be  found  not  without  interest,  and  by  the  advice 
of  others,  in  whose  judgment  he  has  more  confidence  than 
his  own,  he  is  induced  to  submit  it,  "  with  all  its  imperfec- 
tions," to  the  public. 

It  is  not  with  a  view  of  softening  tlie  asperity  of  criti- 


IV  PREFACE. 

cism  that  he  proclaims  these  facts ;  for  however  much 
others  may  wince  under  the  lash  which  the  press  some- 
times inflicts  upon  a  writer,  he  is  proof  against  those 
**  paper  bullets  of  the  brain,"  which  are  generally  tempered 
by  prejudice,  or  surcharged  with  interest. 

That  there  will  be  found  numerous  persons  who  will 
differ  materially  from  him  in  the  opinions  which  he  has  ex- 
pressed, is  sufficiently  obvious ;  but  it  does  not  follow  as  a 
necessary  consequence,  that  his  are  erroneous. 

The  individual  who  would  sacrifice  a  principle  or  dis- 
card his  conviction  of  a  truth,  because  it  did  not  coincide 
with  the  general  opinion,  has  very  little  claim,  to  respect 
for  decision  of  character,  and  to  the  author  of  this  work 
must  be  conceded  the  merit  of  candor,  even  though  it  be 
at  the  expense  of  his  judgment. 

In  conclusion,  he  would  render  his  acknowledgments  to 
numerous  members  of  the  theatrical  profession  for  many 
valuable  facts  and  suggestions  which  he  could  not  else- 
where have  obtained. 


CONTENTS. 


^.»— -..-tiiwj  ., 


CHAPTER    I. 

Birth  of  Booth — Early  Pursuits— Provincial  Tour— First  appearance  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre — Return  to  Brighton— Engagement  of  Kean,  and  his 
non-appearance — Booth  substituted,  and  his  success  in  Richard  the  Third 
— Booth's  visit  to  London — Unexpected  announcement  of  himself  on  the 
play-bills — Incident  at  the  rehearsal — Anecdote  of  Miss  Booth — Dibut  in 
Richard  at  Covent  Garden — His  success — Booth  accused  of  imitation — 
Cooke  and  Kemble  Schools  of  acting  contrasted — Kean's  visit  to  Booth — 
Offer  of  an  engagement  at  Drury  Lane — Kean  and  Booth  in  "  Othello  '* — 
Excitement  in  London — Desultory  Remarks. — Page  5. 

CHAPTER   II. 

Second  Night  of  "  Othello"— Non-appearance  of  Booth— Cause  of  his  Ab- 
sence— His  Letter  to  the  Drury  Lane  Committee — Circular  of  the  Covent 
Garden  Management — Counter-Circular  of  the  Drury  Lane  Proprietors — 
Booth's  Note  to  Mr.  Rae— Second  Circular  of  the  Covent  Garden  Ma- 
nagement— Letter  of  Douglas  Kinnaird  to  H.  Harris — Booth's  re-appear- 
ance  in  Richard,  at  Covent  Garden — His  Reception — Description  of  the 
Row— Booth's  "  Appeal  to  the  Public"— Concluding  Observations. — 
Page  14. 

CHAPTER  III. 

Circular  of  the  Drury  Lane  Committee — Reply  of  the  Opposition  Manage- 
ment—Placard of  Covent  Garden  Theatre— Fourth  Appearance  of  Booth, 
as  Richard,  at  Covent  Garden — His  Reception — Speech  from  the  Stage- 
Opposition  to  Booth — Letter  of  Edmund  Kean— Letter  of  Alexander  Rae 
—Letter  of  John  Fawcett. — Page  24. 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Booth's  Richard  repeated— Kean  in  the  same  character— Their  peculiar 
points  and  readings  compared — Booth's  Sir  Giles  Overreach— Remarks 
upon  a  **  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts  " — Booth's  Posthumus  in  **  Cymbe- 
line  "—Production  of  the  **  Curfew  " — Booth's  assumption  of  Sir  Ed- 
ward Mortimer  in  the  play  of  the  "  Iron  Chest" — ^Revival  of  the  "  Con- 
quest of  Taranto  " — Dibut  in  Edinburgh  —Performance  of  Sir  Giles — 
Letter  to  a  Critic — Provincial  Tour— Return  to  Covent  Garden.- Page 
33. 

CHAPTER   V. 

Miss  O'Neill — ^Her  early  days— First  performances— D^^^  in  Dublin— In- 
cident during  the  performance  of  "  Timour  the  Tartar  "—Her  various 
characters — Dibut  in  London — Success  in  the  provinces — Her  perform- 
ance of  Monimia — Her  efforts  in  comedy — Her  retirement  from  the 
stage — Laughable  anecdote  of  Mr.  Coates — Miss  O'Neill's  efforts  as  an 
actress — Opinions  of  the  critics — Extraordinary  attraction  at  Covent  Gar- 
den—Production of  the  "  Apostate  "—Mr.  Booth's  refusal  of  Pescara — 
Mr.  Macready's  assumption  of  the  character — His  success — Opinions  of 
the  critics  and  the  author  relative  to  his  merits  as  an  actor— His  manage- 
rial efforts. — Page  45. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

Revival  of  "  King  Lear"  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre— Cast  of  Characters — 
Booth's  Lear — Tate's  Alteration— Addison's  opinion  of  the  Character— 
Kemble's  Edgar — Macready's  Edmund — Fawcett's  Kent — Miss  Booth's 
Cordelia — The  "  Lear  of  Private  Life"  at  the  Cobourg — Engagement  of 
Booth — His  success  as  Fitzharden— Mr.  Booth's  Position — Occasional 
Reflections — "  King  Lear"  at  Drury  Lane — Kean's  exorbitant  Demands— 
His  success  in  Lear — Secession  of  Booth  from  Covent  Garden  and  En- 
gagement at  the  Cobourg — Production  of  "  Horatii  and  Curiatii"— Its 
marvellous  Success — Booth's  imitation  of  Kean — His  Engagement  at  the 
East  London  Theatre — Visit  to  Amsterdam — His  Engagement  and  sudden 
Disappearance — "DwfcA"  without  a  Master — His  performance  of  Macbeth 
— Approbation  of  the  Prince  of  Orange— His  performance  of  lago— Re- 
appearance with  Kean  at  Drury  Lane — Return  to  the  Cobourg — Visit  to 
Madeira— His  favorite  "  Peacock" — Departure  for  America. — Page  52. 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER    VII. 

Booth's  introduction  to  Gilfert — First  appearance  in  America — His  success 
in  Richard — Opinions  of  the  critics — Excitement  among  the  play-goers — 
Engagement  at  the  Park  Theatre — Opinions  of  the  New  York  press — 
First  benefit  at  the  Park — Kemble's,  Macready's  and  Charles  Kean's 
Hamlet — Booth's  performance  of  the  character — Booth  in  comedy — His 
Jerry  Sneak — Incidents  at  his  benefit — His  address  to  the  audience — 
Visit  to  various  places — Departure  for  England. — Page  64. 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

Booth  in  England—Visit  to  Bristol— Return  to  America — Engagement  at 
the  Park  Theatre— Retirement  to  his  Farm — Visit  of  Henry  Wallack — 
Booth's  Managerial  Efforts  at  the  Chatham  Theatre— The  Production  of 
"  Sylla" — Booth's  Management  at  New  Orleans — His  Performance  of 
Oresti  at  the  French  Theatre — Visit  to  General  Jackson — His  Employ- 
ment at  the  Hermitage — Adventure  with  Mr.  Simmons— Opinion  of  that 
Gentleman  relative  to  Booth's  Readings— Mrs.  Booth  at  Home — Offer  of 
an  Engagement  from  Dana— That  Gentleman's  Management — Booth's  Re- 
turn to  Baltimore — Flynn's  Theatre  in  Annapolis — Theatricals  in  the 
Olden  Time— First  Performance  in  America— Flynn's  Success  in  Annapo- 
lis— Booth's  Non- Appearance— New  Route  to  Annapolis — Queer  Adven- 
ture of  the  Tragedian's — His  Performance — Effort  to  play  on  Sunday,  and 
:  .  the  Result— Page  73. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Booth  in  Philadelphia — Engagement  at  the  Chestnut  Street  Theatre — Visit 
to  the  Circus — Public  Performance  in  the  Street — Return  to  Bel- Air — 
Booth's  Generosity — Engagement  at  the  Park  Theatre — Booth  and  Forrest 
— "  Mud  Theatre"  of  Baltimore — Booth's  Association  with  Flynn  in  its 
Alteration  and  Management — Their  Managerial  Arrangements  at  the 
HoUiday  Street  Theatre — The  Company  Engaged — Booth's  Appearance  in 
a  variety  of  Characters — His  Performance  of  Luke  in  "  Riches" — Booth's 
Acting  considered — His  "  Richard"  reviewed — Dibut  of  Charles  Kean  in 
Baltimore — Extraordinary  Distribution  of  Characters — Booth  in  a  subordi- 
nate Part — Close  of  the  Season — Booth's  Habits  of  Study — Difficulties  at- 
tending the  Profession — Kemble's  Remark  on  Hamlet — Requisites  for  an 
actor,  with  Accompanying  Reflections. — Page  82. 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   X. 

Mr.  Booth's  Engagement  in  Philadelphia—Brown's  Tragedy  of  "  Sartorius" 
— Engagement  at  Boston — Booth's  address  to  the  audience — His  pedes- 
trian feat  to  Providence — ^Visit  to  New  York — Engagement  of  Hamblin 
— Journey  towards  Richmond— Adventures  on  the  road — A  Theatrical 
Company  at  Booth's  Farm— Mr.  Booth  "  at  home" — His  four  footed 
"  Peacock"— Interesting  tableau — Booth's  voiceless  companions — Per- 
formance at  Richmond — Announcement  of  the  **  Apostate" — Synopsis  of 
the  Plot — Booth's  "  Pescara"— His  return  to  the  Farm. — Page  91. 

CHAPTER   XI. 

Mr.  Hamblin's  return  to  New  York— Special  embassy  to  Booth— Engage- 
ment with  Duffy — Booth's  opening  night  in  New  York — A  month's  per- 
formance alternately  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia — Representation  of 
"  Oroonoko  " — Booth's  threat  from  the  stage — Flynn's  visit  to  Bel- Air 
— Booth  at  his  farm — Dialogue  between  Booth  and  Flynn — Arrival  in 
New  York — Booth's  performance— His  Richard  the  Third — His  return 
to  the  farm. — Page  100. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Booth's  Occasional  Performances  at  the  Bowery— Mr.  Hamblin's  Dinner 
Party— Jack  Reeve — Placide—Hackett— Flynn — Hamblin — Booth — Some 
Account  of  their  Sayings  and  Doings — Hamblin's  Remarks — Jack  Reeve's 
Observations— Booth's  Apology  and  Flynn's  Rejoinder — Placide's  Ac- 
knowledgments— Adjournment  to  the  Theatre — Othello  made  darker — 
Booth's  Sudden  Disappearance — Flynn's  Apology  to  the  Audience — His 
Pursuit  of  Booth — Discovery  of  the  Tragedian's  Retreat — Peculiar 
Method  of  Satisfying  the  Public— Booth  as  Sir  Giles  Overreach — Per- 
formance of  "  Julius  Caesar  "—New  Reading  of  Brutus — The  Effects 
of  SnufF— A  Farcical  Tragedy — Booth's  Departure  for  New  Orleans. — 
Page  106. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

Birth  of  Mr.  Hamblin — First  appearance  on  the  Stage — Anecdote— Engage- 
ment at  Drury  Lane— His  representation  of  Hamlet — Engagement  at 
Bath— Incident  at  the  Brighton  Theatre— iJ^^Mf  in  America— Manage- 


CONTENTS.  IX 

ment  of  the  Bowery  Theatre — His  difficulties  and  subsequent  Success — 
Destruction  of  the  Theatre — Benefit  at  the  National  Theatre— Poetical 
Address — Erection  of  the  Bowery  by  Dinneford — Mr.  Hamblin's  arrival 
in  London— Engagement  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre— Return  to  America 
—■Mr.  Hamblin's  abilities  as  an  actor  Examined — Green-room  Incident 
— Hamblin's  Theatrical  Management — Jas.  Anderson — Concluding 
Remarks. — Page  113. 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

Speculations  on  a  Peculiar  System  of  Philosophy — Animal  Food,  with  a 
few  reflections  thereon— Mr.  Booth  at  Mobile — Unlooked-for  Candidate 
for  a  Funeral  Service— Engagement  at  Louisville— Easy  Method  of  pro- 
curing a  Horse — Two  Extraordinary  Persons  confounded — Booth  in 
"  durance  vile" — His  Escape — Remarkable  Adventure  with  a  **  Parson.'* 
—Page  122. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Booth  at  the  Bowery  Theatre — ^Flynn's  benefit — Invitation  to  Commodore 
Elliott— Reception  of  Captain  H****  and  officers — Ludicrous  mistake — 
Congratulations  of  the  Press— Flynn's  birth — His  various  engagements- 
Visit  to  America — Dibut  in  Boston — Sudden  marriage — Appropriate 
announcement  on  the  play-bills — Engagement  with  Hamblin — Visit  to 
London— Adventure  at  Vauxhall  Garden — Return  to  America — Opening 
of  the  National  Theatre — Its  success — The  "  Maid  of  Cashmere  "—New 
Bowery  Theatre— New  Chatham  Theatre— Flynn  in  a  new  character- 
Mr.  Flynn's  talents  as  an  actor — His  managerial  exertions. — Page  128. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

Booth's  visit  to  England— His  engagement  at  Drury  Lane — Disregard  of 
the  wishes  of  the  audience — Sudden  return  to  America — Visit  to  various 
places — ^Announcement  to  play  "  Richard"  at  the  Bowery — Destruction 
of  the  Theatre — Graphic  account  of  the  fire — "  Benefit  for  the  sufferers" 
— Announcement  of  Booth,  as  Shylock — Sudden  disappearance — Booth  in 
a  new  character — Engagement  at  the  National  Theatre— Departure  for 
the  South — Unrehearsed  performance  on  board  the  "  Neptune" — At- 
tempt to  commit  suicide — Philosophical  request  to  Flynn — Appearance 
at    the   Charleston    Theatre— Booth's    attack   on    Flynn— A    valuable 


CONTENTS.  1 

"  bridge'*  broken — Lamentable  result — Obstacles  to  the  success  of  the 
Drama  in  America — Exorbitant  demands  of  actors — The  "  Starring" 
System  noticed — "  London  Assurance"  and  "  Fashion" — Engagement  of 
Booth  at  the  Park — Booth  "at  Court" — Charles  Kean's  engagement — 
Occasional  reflections. — Page  137. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Birth  of  Conway— His  first  appearance  as  an  actor — Engagement  at  the 
provincial  theatres — Dibut  in  Dublin — Incident  at  the  Dublin  Theatre- 
First  appearance  in  London — His  reception — Banishment  from  the  me- 
tropolitan stage — Benefit  at  Bath — Hindrances  to  success  in  London — 
His  depression  of  mind — Departure  for  America — Dibut  in  Ne\v  York 
— Opinions  of  the  Press — Cooper  and  Conway  in  the  same  plays — Their 
success — Retirement  of  the  latter  from  the  stage — His  eccentric  habits 
— Departure  for  Charleston — His  suicide — Reflections  thereon.— Page 

'''•  •  .       \ 

CHAPTER   XVIII.  •    '       '' 

A  Glance  at  the  Olympic  Theatre — Its  Presiding  Deity— Mr.  Mitchell's 

Early  Days — His  First  Theatrical  Aspirations — Their  Effect — First  Ap- 

>    pearance  on  the  Stage — Engagement  in  London — Critiques  on  his  Per- 

,.  formance  of  Jem  Bags — Anecdote  of  Mitchell  and  Jerrold — Mitchell  in 

Raggs — Embarcation    for    America — Olympic — Opening  Address — His 

Musical  Taste,  &-c. — Page  155. 


CHAPTER    XIX;. 

The  American  Drama— Obstacles  to  its  success — Prejudices  against  the 
theatre— Its  uses  and  abuses — Abolishment  of  the  "  third  tier"— Theatri- 
cal licenses — Characteristics  of  the  Americans — Dependence  on  England 
for  their  opinions — The  Cushmans — Forrest — His  Shaksperian  efforts — 
European  actors — ^Native  performers— Charles  H.  Eaton — Performance 
of  Richard — His  accident  and  the  cause — His  death — The  performances 
of  American  actors  considered — Peculiarities  of  style — Shakspere  abused 
— The  incongruities  of  his  pieces  as  represented— Performance  of  •'  Wil- 
liam Tell" — Ludicrous  termination  of  the  scene.— Page  163. 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Mrs.  Charles  Kean — Her  first  efforts — Engagement  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre- 
Appearance  at  Covent  Garden — Her  success — Her  performance  of  Ion — 
Opinions  of  a  critic— Dibut  in  America — Return  to  England — Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Kean  at  the  Park  Theatre — Mrs.  Kean's  performance  of  Viola  and 
Rosalind — Causes  of  success— Her  Julia  in  the  "  Hunchback" — Her  Bea- 
trice— Opinion  of  William  Leggett — Mrs.  Kean's  peculiar  qualifications 
for  an  actress — Commercial  Revulsion  of  1837 — Its  effects  on  the  drama — 
Lardner  on  the  system  of  Stars — Lectures  vs,  the  Legitimate — The  Drama 
a  means  of  moral  instruction—"  Defence  of  the  Stage." — Page  171. 

CHAPTER    THE    LAST. 

Desultory  reflections — Mr.  Booth's  career  on  the  stage — His  abilities  as  an 
actor  considered— His  eccentricities — Thoughts  on  Genius— Concluding 
observations. — Page  177. 


THE  ACTOR,  &C 


INTRODUCTORY  CHAPTER- 

In  endeavoring  to  rescue  from  oblivion  some  of  the  incidents  in 
the  lives  of  Booth  and  his  contemporaries,  the  difficulty  has  been, 
not  in  the  meagerness  of  material,  but  rather  in  its  abundance. 
As  the  epicure,  at  a  rich  banquet  of  varied  and  curious  dishes, 
desirous  of  selecting  such  as  will  best  gratify  his  palate  and  ap- 
pease his  appetite, — in  the  endeavor  to  select  the  best,  leaves  the 
choicest  untasted,  so  we,  among  the  numerous  adventures,  both 
on  and  off  the  stage,  ,of  Booth  and  others,  have  probably  left 
much  that  would  have  been  of  more  value  than  what  we  have 
written. 

In  the  history  of  Mr.  Booth,  we  know  that  there  are  some  facts 
which,  although  they  might  illustrate  more  particularly  the 
various  phases  of  his  character,  and  prove  entertaining  to  the 
reader,  cannot  with  propriety  be  made  public,  while  the  subject 
of  them  is  still  alive,  nor  would  the  author  willingly  submit  to 
the  public  gaze,  what  belongs  only  to  the  privacies  of  life. 

There  are  chords  in  the  human  heart,  which  a  breath  may 
cause  to  vibrate ;  there  are  incidents  in  the  life  of  every  man,  an 
allusion  to  which  might  open  those  wounds  of  sorrow  that  time 
alone  would  heal.  Still,  there  are  some  events  belonging  to  history, 
that  should  be  recorded  ere  they  pass  into  the  Lethe  of  oblivion  3 

1 


^rv'J'T,"*''  THE  actoe; 

there  are  adventures  with  which  the  public  are  imperfectly  ac-  * 
quainted,  in  which  the  actors  have  manifested  no  great  degree  of 
regard  for  public  opinion,  and  that  serve  as  illustrations  of  cha- 
racter, that  may  be  written  without  offence.  These  we  have  en- 
deavored to  chronicle,  giving  them  a  "  local  habitation  and  a 
name." 

Mr.  Booth  has  been  long  before  the  public,  and  his  wild  and 
curious  adventures  have  been  related  in  so  many  varied  forms, 
each  narrator  adding  those  embellishments  which  his  imagination 
supplied,  that  the  actor  himself  might  reap  considerable  amuse- 
ment from  listening  to  the  marvellous  stories  that  are  told  of 
him,  and  of  which,  previous  to  their  recital,  he  was  profoundly 
ignorant. 

That  Mr.  Booth  is  sometimes  mad,  either  from  hereditary 
disease,  or  temporary  aberration  of  mind,  is  sufficiently  evident, 
though  sometimes,  like  Hamlet's,  there  may  be  "  method  in  it." 

We  have  not  unfrequently  heard  it  suggested,  that  some  of  his 
eccentricities  might  have  been  induced  by  a  spirit  of  affectation, 
to  gain  notoriety ;  but  not  only  would  the  wish  to  appear  so  be- 
tray an  eccentricity  in  itself,  but  the  extraordinary  lengths  to 
which  Mr.  Booth  sometimes  carries  his  humors,  would  hardly 
satisfy  a  reasonable  mind,  that  it  was  merely  the  desire  of 
attracting  observation ;  nor  can  his  madness,  for  such  it  some- 
times is,  be  the  result  of  a  mind  diverted  from  its  natural  course, 
by  an  over  indulgence  at  the  shrine  of  Bacchus,  for  during  the 
early  career  of  Mr.  Booth,  and  indeed  long  after  his  arrival  in 
this  country,  he  was  remarkable  for  his  abstemiousness. 

Whether  the  poet  who  said,  in  effect,  that  genius  was  to  mad<  J 
ness  nearly  allied,  uttered  the  truth,  or  otherwise,  we  are  not 
prepared  to  decide,  but  certain  it  is,  that  those  who  are  gifted 
with  inherent  powers  of  mind  of  a  superior  order,  are  generally    j 
characterized  by  their  extraordinary  departures  from  the  usual 
conventional  forms  of  society. 


OK,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  3 

Some  explanation  of  the  cause  may  be  found  in  the  fact,  that 
with  genius  ever  exists  the  power  to  originate,  and  originality 
disdains  to  follow  in  the  common  road,  but  regarding  the  same 
objects  with  a  different  vision,  carves  its  own  way,  and  travels  in 
a  path  of  its  own  creation. 

If  genius,  whose  energies  and  exertions  are  applied  to  some  ordi- 
nary pursuit,  be  marked  for  its  eccentricities,  is  it  surprising  that 
when  devoted  to  the  representation  of  the  passions,  to  the  deline- 
ation of  character,  and  to  the  portrayal  of  strong  emotions — when 
it  seeks  to  embody  itself  in  the  forms  which  the  poet's  imagin- 
ation has  created,  it  should  be  characterized  by  a  still  greater 
departure  from  the  usual  modes  and  customs  of  life  ? 

The  actor's  career  is  certainly  a  chequered  one.  His  profes- 
sion demands  devoted  study,  patient  investigation,  and  laborious 
thought.  He  lives  in  a  world  of  imagination.  The  forms  that 
are  floating  through  his  brain,  are  the  ideal  creations  of  the  poet's 
fancy ;  the  matter  upon  which  his  mind  finds  its  aliment,  are  the 
"  airy  nothings  "  which  the  bard's  invention  has  conjured  up, 
and  as  unsubstantial  as  the  "  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision." 

Then  there  is  the  excitement  of  playing.  With  the  Argus 
eyes  of  the  critics  upon  him,  before  the  blaze  of  beauty  and 
fashion,  amidst  the  plaudits  of  admiring  spectators,  he  comes  forth 
to  embody,  in  his  own  visible  person,  some  character  in  which 
the  fairest  or  darkest  passions  of  our  nature  are  interwoven. 

If,  like  Mr.  Booth,  all  thoughts  of  his  own  individuality  are 
merged  in  that  of  the  character  he  is  representing,  for  the  time, 
at  least,  he  is  what  he  purports  to  be,  the  visible  personification 
of  what  the  poet  has  created. 

The  smoothly  flowing  verse,  with  its  harmoniously  constructed 
sentences  and  rounded  periods,  enriched  with  glowing  pictures  of 
poetical  imagery,  or  impassioned  appeals  to  the  heart,  is  uttered 
to  breathless  hearers  ;  and  when,  amidst  the  deafening  peals  of 
applause  which  await  the  actor's  triumphs,  he  retires,  with  mind 


r4  THE   ACTOR  ; 

excited  and  body  fatigued,  to  mingle  with  the  world,  the  affinity 
between  which  and  that  wherein  his  thoughts  have  been  fixed, 
being  as  widely  asunder  as  earth  from  heaven,  is  it  wonder- 
ful that  the  actor  should  be  unlike  ordinary  men  ? 

If,  in  addition  to  all  this,  he  be,  like  Booth,  the  child  of  sensi- 
bility, the  creature  of  impulse  and  passion,  of  warm  feelings  and 
the  most  tender  susceptibilities,  is  it  a  matter  of  astonishment 
that  his  "  mind  "  should  become  "  diseased,'*  and  assume  those 
peculiarities  akin  to  madness  ?  Nor  is  it,  to  us,  a  matter  of 
surprise,  amidst  this  chaotic  mass  of  "  madness  and  impertinency 
mixed,"  that  in  his  hours  of  despondency  (for  he  cannot  live 
without  a  portion  of  that  excitement  which  an  actor's  life  engen- 
ders, and  to  which  he  becomes  habituated),  he  should  have 
recourse  to  the  glass,  as  an  antidote  to  mental  disquietude. 

Much  as  we  can  find  in  extenuation  of  Booth's  unfortunate 
infirmity,  yet,  as  we  have  seen  him  in  his  latter  years,  like  some 
proud  monument  in  ruins,  from  our  hearts  we  have  anathema- 
tized the  accursed  habit  of  indulgence  in  the  "  social  glass," 
which  has  led  to  such  lamentable  results. 

The  last  time  that  we  saw  him  in  Hamlet,  we  could  not  but 
dwell  on  the  appositeness  of  Ophelia's  remark  : — 

"  0,  what  a  noble  mind  is  here  o'erthrown  !*' 

The  laurel  wreath  of  fame,  to  which  years  should  have  added 
renewed  freshness  and  vitality,  had  almost  withered  on  his  brow; 
the  once  sonorous  and  musical  voice  had  fallen  into  a  nasal 
utterance ;  the  fine,  manly  countenance,  once  susceptible  of  every 
variety  of  expression,  was  disfigured  ;  the  clear  blue  eye,  with 
its  intense  lustre,  irradiating  the  countenance  and  revealing  the 
depths  of  the  soul,  sunken  and  dimmed,  and  his  mind,  once  the 
seat  of  every  bright  intelligence, 

"  Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh." 


^']  CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  of  Booth — Early  Pursuits— Provincial  Tour— First  appearance  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre — Return  to  Brighton — Engagement  of  Kean,  and  his 
non-appearance — Booth  substituted,  and  his  success  in  Richard  the  Third 
— Booth's  visit  to  London — Unexpected  announcement  of  himself  on  the 
play-bills — Incident  at  the  rehearsal — Anecdote  of  Miss  Booth — Dibut  in 
Richard  at  Covent  Garden — His  success — Booth  accused  of  imitation — 
Cooke  and  Kemble  Schools  of  acting  contrasted — Kean's  visit  to  Booth — 
Offer  of  an  engagement  at  Drury  Lane — Kean  and  Booth  in  "  Othello  " — 
Excitement  in  London — Desultory  Remarks. 

Junius  Brutus  Booth,  the  principal  subject  of  our  work,  was 
born  at  St.  Pancras,  near  London,  on  the  first  of  May,  1796,  and 
at  an  early  age  was  remarkable  for  the  precocity  of  his  intellect. 

His  father  was  a  respectable  attorney  and  solicitor,  residing  in 
Queen  street,  Bloomsbury,  and  his  mother  was  a  descendant  of 
the  celebrated  John  Wilkes. 

Mr.  Booth's  juvenile  inclinations  were  directed  to  pictorial 
pursuits,  and  drawings  are  said  to  be  extant  from  his  pencil, 
marked  by  freedom  of  execution  and  boldness  of  design.  He 
entered,  however,  into  the  navy  from  positive  choice,  and  was 
merely  dissuaded  by  the  entreaties  of  his  father  from  embarking 
for  America  as  a  Midshipman,  in  a  vessel  which,  with  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  crew,  was  afterwards  lost.  Mr.  Booth  then  ap- 
plied his  talents  to  the  art  of  printing,  which  he  speedily  aban- 
doned for  the  study  of  the  law,  but  after  a  short  period,  he  dis- 
covered that  the  dry  and  musty  volumes  of  Blackstone  and  Coke 
were  not  exactly  suited  to  his  volatile  disposition,  and  peculiar 
train  of  thought. 


6  THE   ACTOR  ; 

His  finished  education  and  fine  classical  taste  sought  their  de- 
velopment in  the  production  of  works  of  art,  and  he,  therefore, 
abandoned  the  profession  of  the  !aw,  for  that  of  painting.  He 
is  said  to  have  made  considerable  proficiency  as  an  artist,  but 
his  ambition  rested  not  here,  for  he  applied  himself  to  the  mo- 
delling of  images  of  beauty  from  marble,  which,  for  a  time,  he 
pursued  with  great  avidity ;  but  neither  painting  nor  sculpture 
satisfied  those  cravings  which  are  often  allied  to  the  restless 
heart  of  genius.  Disdaining  the  inanimate  forms  of  the  painter, 
and  the  more  cold  and  lifeless  productions  of  the  sculptor,  he 
sought,  in  the  actor's  art,  to  combine  and  embody  them  with  the 
creations  of  the  poet : — 

"  For  Poetry  can  ill  express 

Full  many  a  tone  of  thought  sublime  ; 
And  Painting,  mute  and  motionless. 

Steals  but  a  glance  from  time ; 
But,  by  the  mighty  Actor  brought, 

Illusion's  wedded  triumphs  come. 
Verse  ceases  to  be  airy  thought. 

And  Sculpture  to  be  dumb  !" 

Mr.  Booth,  like  Cooke,  Kean,  Kemble,  Forrest,  and  the  majority 
of  actors  who  have  acquired  any  reputation  in  their  profession, 
began  his  career  among  a  company  of  amateurs,  and  one  of  his 
most  determined  enemies,  curiously  enough,  found  a  subject  of 
ridicule  in  his  sudden  exaltation  from  a  barn,  to  a  rivalship  with 
Edmund  Kean.  Instead,  however,  of  discovering  any  disgrace 
in  commencing  his  profession  at  the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder, 
we  regard  his  rapid  rise  as  a  sure  indication  of  real  merit. 

His  first  theatrical  engagement  was  commenced  under  the 
auspices  of  Messrs  Jonas  and  Penley,  who  then  conducted  a 
company  of  comedians  at  Deptford.  He  began  his  career  with 
Carrvpilhy  a  subordinate  character  in  the  "  Honey  Moon,"  on  the 
13th  of  December,  1813. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN,  1 

.4  He  continued  in  the  circuit  regularly  made  by  these  managers, 
until  compelled  by  illness  to  a  temporary  retirement,  at  the  ex- 
piration of  which  he  accompanied  Mr.  Penley  on  a  professional 
tour  to  the  continent,  and  after  performing  at  Amsterdam,  Ant- 
werp, Brussels,  Ghent,  and  Ostend,  returned  to  England  in  April* 
1815. 

In  the  summer  of  the  same  year,  he  went  on  a  provincial  tour 
to  Worthing  and  Brighton,  where  he  played  with  a  company, 
under  the  management  of  Mr.  Thomas  Trotter,  among  whom  was 
the  celebrated  comedian,  Harley. 

Under  the  same  direction,  he  afterwards  became  prompter, 
until  October,  when  he  made  his  debut,  in  conjunction  with  Mrs. 
Alsop,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  as  Silvius,  in  "  As  You 
Like  It." 

Here  he  remained  during  the  season,  appearing  occasionally  in 
subordinate  characters,  among  which  was  Henry,  in  the  transla- 
tion of  "  La  Pie  Yoleuse^^  at  a  salary  of  two  pounds  per  week,  a 
similar  sum  to  that  which  Kean  received,  during  his  first  regular 
engagement  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre. 

We  might  here  descant  on  the  difficulties  which  the  novice  in 
the  theatrical  profession,  who  has  "  no  friends  to  back  his  suit 
withal,"  must  encounter  at  the  large  theatres,  but  the  reader  is 
probably  aware  that  Kean,  Cooper,  and  various  other  actors  had 
to  submit  to  similar  treatment,  before  they  were  allowed  an  oppor- 
tunity to  rise,  and  can  imagine  the  hindrances  to  advancement 
among  a  large  company,  where  each  member  is  jealous  of  the 
other's  success. 

Upon  the  termination  of  the  year's  engagement,  Mr.  Booth 
assumed  the  acting  management  of  the  Worthing  Theatre,  at  a 
weekly  remuneration  of  two  guineas,  and  a  "  benefit"  at  the  close 
of  the  season.  He  soon  after  relinquished  the  situation,  but  in 
1817,  returned  to  Brighton  and  Worthing,  where  he  acquired 


8  THE  ACTOR  ;  | 

considerable  reputation,  and  was  much  admired  for  his  represen-    1 
tation  of  Fitzharding,  in  the  comedy  of  "  Smiles  and  Tears.'' 

While  performing  at  Brighton,  Edmund  Kean,  who  was  then 
in  the  zenith  of  his  glory,  having  been  engaged  and  announced  to 
appear  as  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  disappointed  the  audience  by  his 
non-arrival  from  London,  and  Mr.  Booth  was  called  upon,  at  a 
very  short  notice,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one  (including  himself), 
to  supply  his  place.  Surprise,  however,  was  succeeded  by 
astonishment  and  admiration  at  the  extraordinary  talent  that  he 
exhibited,  and  such  was  the  deep  and  indelible  impression  he 
made,  that  to  this  day  it  is  remembered  and  spoken  of  in  terms  of 
the  highest  praise. 

Those  who  had  witnessed  Kean  in  the  same  character,  regarded 
Booth  as  his  equal,  and  his  youth  and  beauty  (for  his  face  was 
eminently  handsome  and  intellectual)  excited  a  prejudice  in  his 
favor. 

A  nobleman,  interested  in  the  affairs  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
having  witnessed  the  performance,  wrote  immediately  to  Mr.^  | 
Harris,  the  proprietor,  respecting  Booth's  extraordinary  success, 
but  receiving  no  answer,  he  advised  the  subject  of  our  remarks  to 
repair  at  once  to  London,  with  another  communication  from  him 
to  Mr.  Harris. 

Booth  obtained  the  consent  of  Mr.  Trotter,  and  the  coach  that 
carried  him  to  London,  passed  on  the  road  the  one  that  conveyed 
a  respose  to  the  first  letter,  calling  him  immediately  to  the  metro- 
polis. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  "  Elephant  and  Castle,"  curiosity 
induced  him,  as  it  does  all  actors  who  arrive  in  London  from  the 
provincial  theatres,  to  examine  the  play-bills  of  the  day,  and 
while  his  eye  rested  on  the  one  advertising  the  performance  at 
Covent  Garden,  what  was  his  astonishment  at  finding  himself 
announced  for  the  following  night,  as  Richard  the  Third. 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  .    9 

At  the  theatre,  the  ensuing  morning,  when  he  went  to  rehearsal, 
he  was  met  with  the  accustomed  sneers  and  prognostications  of 
failure  that  almost  invariably  attend  the  first  efforts  of  aspiring 
talent.  The  company  clustered  together,  and  one  remarked, 
"  Why,  I  declare  !  It's  little  Silvius  of  last  season,  come  to  play 
Richard  the  Third,  in  opposition  to  the  great  Kean  !"  and  another, 
who  seemed  more  astonished  and  chagrined  at  the  event,  observed, 
"  I  wonder,  now,  if  the  manager  expects  respectable  actors  to  play 
secondary  parts  to  him .'" 

Alone  and  friendless.  Booth  was  still  sanguine  of  success.  The 
latent  fire  which  lurks  in  the  heart  of  genius,  though  smothered 
by  the  ashes  of  neglect,  needs  but  an  opportunity  to  burst  into  a 
blaze  whose  light  no  obstacles  can  quench  ;  the  prophetic  mind 
of  its  possessor  glows  with  the  consciousness  of  its  power,  and  no 
circumstances,  however  opposing — no  sarcasm,  however  pointed 
— can  dissuade  it  from  its  destined  consummation. 

On  every  side,  he  encountered  sour  and  contemptuous  looks, 
and  so  indignant  was  the  leading  actress  of  the  establishment,  the 
celebrated  Miss  Booth,  at  the  presumption  of  "  little  Silvius,"  in 
attempting  to  shine  in  the  same  orbit  with  herself,  that  she  called 
him  aside,  and  remarked,  that  as  he  was  a  namesake  of  hers,  al- 
though no  relation,  he  would  be  regarded  as  her  brother,  an  infer- 
ence which  she  wished  to  be  avoided ;  and  that  there  might  be 
no  misunderstanding  on  the  subject,  she  would  esteem  it  a  parti- 
cular favor,  and  one  not  easily  forgotten,  if  he  would  add  an  "  e  " 
to  his  name ! 

Mr.  Booth,  however  much  he  may  have  admired  the  "  belles 
lettreSi^  thought  it  not  inconsistent  with  his  gallantry  to  decline 
being  taught  his  letters  by  a  helle. 

This  amusing  request,  as  arrogant  as  it  was  ridiculous,  serves  to 
exhibit  the  questionable  position  which  the  great  tragedian  occupied 
in  the  estimation  of  the  Covent  Garden  company,  and  will  remind 
the  reader  of  the  advice  given  by  a  certain  little  actor  of  the 

♦    X* 


10  THE   ACTOR  ; 

Drury  Lane  stock,  who  on  several  occasions  recommended  Mr. 
Kean,  previous  to  his  appearance,  not  to  loiter  upon  the  bench  in 
the  hall,  as  was  the  custom,  but  to  attend  the  front  of  the 
house,  and  profit  by  the  good  acting  he  there  might  have  an  op- 
portunity to  behold. 

Booth,  however,  played  Richard  the  Third  according  to  an- 
nouncement, on  February  Tith,  1817,  and  such  was  the  powerful 
impression  that  he  made  by  its  representation,  that  in  the  estima- 
tion of  many,  he  was  not  only  regarded  as  the  rival,  but  the  equal 
of  Kean. 

Kean,  at  this  period,  was  drawing  immense  houses,  and  in  the 
very  acme  of  his  glory.  A  rival  was  what  none  anticipated,  and 
the  warm  eulogiums  that  were  lavished  on  Booth,  now  filled  the 
opposition  house  to  overflowing. 

Booth  awoke  on  the  morning  after  his  success,  and  like  Byron, 
"  found  himself  famous."  Letters  of  congratulation  flowed  in 
from  all  quarters,  and  solicitations  from  managers,  anxious  to  se- 
cure his  services,  came 

"  Thick  as  autumnal  leaves  that  strew  the  brooks 
In  Valambroso." 

Even  his  namesake  forgave  him  for  not  adding  the  "  e  "  to  his 
name,  and  the  other  members  of  the  company  were  willing  to 
allow  that  "  little  Silvius  "  had  merit. 

Booth,  in  stature,  very  much  resembled  Kean ;  and  being  of  a 
similar  temperament,  he  naturally  glided  into  the  same  school  of 
acting,  which  caused  some  of  the  friends  of  the  latter  gentleman 
to  accuse  him  of  being  an  imitator ;  but  Booth  afterwards  dissi- 
pated this  error,  by  enacting  a  portion  of  Richard  according  to  his 
own  idea  and  style  of  representation,  and  afterwards  in  that  of 
Kean,  exhibiting  the  several  peculiarities  of  each. 

In  order  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  what  we  mean  by  a 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  U 

particular  model  of  playing,  we  will  hazard  the  charge  of  dull- 
ness, by  a  few  explanatory  observations. 

In  the  loftier  walks  of  tragedy,  there  are  two  separate  and  dis- 
tinct styles  of  acting,  which  may  be  distinguished  as  the  Cooke 
and  Kemble  schools. 

The  former  is  remarkable  for  the  total  abstraction  of  the  actor, 
in  the  character  personified — for  the  complete  abandonment  of  the 
individual,  in  the  part  represented — for  its  impulsive  and  ener- 
getic execution,  and  for  the  truthfulness  with  which  it  adheres  to 
nature. 

The  latter  is  characterized  by  its  chaste  and  classical  attitudes 
— its  unbending  and  statue-like  stiffness,  and  its  correct,  but  soul- 
less embodiments. 

The  former  is  the  result  of  genius  and  talent  combined,  copy- 
ing nature  with  such  unerring  fidelity,  that  it  becomes  nature 
itself;  the  latter  of  talent,  added  to  intense  study  and  observa- 
tion, and  producing,  in  its  effects,  a  great  perfectibility  of  art. 
One  is  like  the  bright  flashing  of  the  lightning,  that  irradiates  the 
earth  with  its  splendor  and  startles  by  its  brilliancy ;  the  other, 
like  the  steady,  luminous,  and  continuous  light  of  the  sun. 

Kean  and  Booth  both  belonged  to  the  Cooke  school,  combining 
many  of  the  characteristics  of  Kemble,  having  much  of  the  artis- 
tical  finish  and  all  of  the  scholar-like  style  of  declamation.  The 
instruction  which  Hamlet  gives  to  the  players  regarding  their 
acting,  warning  them  not  to  "  tear  a  passion  to  tatters,"  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  allow  it  "  to  come  tardy  off,"  was  admirably  exem- 
plified by  both,  and  all  who  have  seen  Booth  will  acknowledge 
that  he  '^  suits  the  action  to  the  word  and  the  word  to  the  action," 

But  we  return  from  this  digression.  Both  theatres  were  now 
in  the  full  tide  of  success,  and  the  excitement  engendered  by  the 
rival  Richards  was  wrought  to  its  highest  pitch. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Booth's  dthut  at  Covent  Garden,  Mr.  Kean 
\yaited  on  him  and  congratulated  him  on  his  success.     After  con- 


Iff  THE   ACTOR  ; 

siderable  conversation,  he  urged  Booth  to  accompany  him  in  his 
chariot*  to  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  where,  upon  his  arrival,  the  com- 
mittee of  direction  offered  him  an  engagement,  Mr.  Kean  promis- 
ing to  play  counter-parts  with  him. 

Flattered  by  the  compliment,  Mr.  Kean  being  at  that  period 
one  of  the  lions  of  the  British  stage,  Mr.  Booth  was  prevailed  upon 
to  accept  the  offer,  and  signed  a  memorandum  to  that  effect. 

He  left  Covent  Garden,  and  appeared  as  lago  to  Kean's  Othello^ 
on  Thursday,  the  twentieth  of  February,  to  an  overflowing 
house  and  amidst  thunders  of  applause.  Manfully  did  he  act  the 
part,  dividing  the  plaudits  with  Kean,  the  friends  of  that  gentle- 
man vociferous  in  behalf  of  their  favorite,  and  those  of  Booth 
equally  zealous  for  their  "  little  Silvius." 

The  excitement  was  immense.  Placards  were  displayed 
through  the  streets  of  London — the  press  teemed  with  notices  of 
the  "  Moor  "  and  his  "  Ancient,"  and  the  one  universal  theme  of 
conversation  was  the  rival  players,  the  Keanites  considering  their 
protege  the  conqueror,  and  the  Boothites,  theirs. 

Whichever  bore  off  the  palm  of  victory,  however,  it  must  be 
conceded  that  Kean  had  a  decided  advantage  over  his  adversary. 
He  was  in  the  height  of  his  success — in  his  favorite  character — 
of  a  more  mature  age,  and  had  long  been  the  cynosure  of  all 
eyes.  Booth,  who  was  but  a  stripling,  came  before  the  audience 
from  a  rival  theatre,  in  the  most  difficultf  part,  and  before  a  con- 

*  There  is  an  old  adage — "  Put  a  beggar  on  horseback,"  &c.  Mr.  Kean, 
who,  a  few  years  previous,  profited  by  a  public  subscription  for  his  support 
at  Dorchester,  at  his  elevation  as  an  actor  at  Drury  Lane,  kept  his  chariot, 
drawn  by  four  horses,  and  attended  by  postillions.  This  ostentatious  dis- 
play was  daily  made  in  front  of  the  theatre,  where  he  might  often  have  been 
seen,  "  shaking  hands  from  his  chariot  windows,  to  a  group  of  comedians, 
as  eager  to  testify  their  supple  homage  as  he  seemed  anxious  to  receive  it." 

t  The  sympathies  of  an  audience  naturally  flow  with  the  honest  and 
deeply-injured  Moor,  while  the  representative  of  lago  has  their  prejudices 
to  contend  against.    His  infernal  craft  and  villany  shock  the  sensibilities. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  13 

course  of  new  faces,  to  contend  for  the  laurel  which  fame  had 
wreathed  around  the  brow  of  Kean. 

His  success,  however,  could  not,  of  course,  be  satisfactory  to 
all.  Envy  and  jealousy  surrounded  him.  Plodding  dullness, 
without  ambition,  and  successful  merit,  that  could  not  brook  a 
rivalship  from  a  boy  who  snatched  the  chaplet  of  fame  from  the 
brow  of  age  and  experience  almost  without  an  effort,  were  arrayed 
against  him ;  but  detraction  and  injustice,  though  they  clouded 
his  prospects  for  a  moment,  but  rendered  his  rising  star  of  success 
the  more  brilliant  by  the  dark  shadows  that  surrounded  it. 

and  the  more  life-like  the  performance  is  rendered,  proportionably  stronger 
becomes  the  prejudice.  Indeed,  it  has  been  recorded  of  Mr.  Cooke,  that 
such  was  the  profound  dissimulation  and  treachery  he  manifested  in  the 
part,  that  on  one  occasion,  he  excited  a  hiss,  which,  considering  its  cause, 
was  the  highest  compliment  that  could  be  awarded. 


14 


CHAPTER  II. 

Second  Night  of  "  Othello"— Non-appearance  of  Booth— Cause  of  his  Ab- 
sence— His  Letter  to  the  Drury  Lane  Committee — Circular  of  the  Covent 
Garden  Management — Counter-Circular  of  the  Drury  Lane  Proprietors — 
Booth*s  Note  to  Mr.  Rae— Second  Circular  of  the  Covent  Garden  Ma- 
nagement— Letter  of  Douglas  Kinnaird  to  H.  Harris — Booth's  re -appear- 
ance in  Richard,  at  Covent  Garden — His  Reception — Description  of  the 
Row— Booth's  "  Appeal  to  the  Public" — Concluding  Observations. 

The  performance  of  "  Othello,"  with  Kean  and  Booth,  mentioned 
in  the  foregoing  chapter,  was  announced  for  repetition  the  follow- 
ing evening. 

At  an  early  hour  the  house  was  crowded  to  overflowing  with 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  attendances  by  which  the  boxes  of 
Drury  Lane  were  ever  distinguished,  and  such  was  the  excite- 
ment and  curiosity  to  witness  the  performance,  that  a  guinea  was 
offered  for  a  single  seat. 

When  the  curtain  rose,  however,  Mr.  Booth  did  not  appear, 
but  in  his  stead,  Mr.  Rae,  the  manager,  who  read  a  note  from 
him,  to  the  effect  that  he  was  ill.  He  also  stated  to  the  audience 
that  Mr.  Kean  had  consented  to  play  lago,  and  that  he,  Mr.  Rae, 
would  undertake  the  performance  of  Othello, 

Considerable  opposition  to  this  arrangement  arose,  when,  amidst 
the  confusion,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Gloucester  entered  the 
house,  and  "  God  save  the  King"  being  called  for,  and  sung  with 
great  effect,  the  audience  became  quiet,  and  the  play  was  allowed 
to  proceed  without  further  interruption. 

Various  are  the  reasons  assigned  why  Mr.  Booth  did  not  con- 
tinue at  Drury  Lane,  some  contending  that  he  was  "  afraid  of 
Kean,"  as  an  actor,  and  others,  that  he  had  entered  into  an  en- 
gagement with  the  managers  of  Covent  Garden,  upon  their  offer- 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  15 

ing  him  the  same  terms  as  those  at  which  his  services  had  been 
secured  at  Drury  Lane. 

The  truth  of  the  matter,  however,  is,  that  after  the  first  night 
of  Booth's  appearance  at  the  opposition  theatre,  he  discovered 
that  there  was  a  determined  effort  on  the  part  of  Kean  and  his 
friends  to  "  put  him  down ;"  that  he  would  not  be  allowed  to  play 
Richard^  Sir  Giles  Overreach^  Bertram,  or  any  of  Mr.  Kean's 
parts,  that  gentleman  having  already  monopolized  all  the  charac- 
ters in  which  he,  Booth,  was  likely  to  succeed ;  and  that  the  en- 
gagement into  which  he  had  been  wheedled,  was  about  the  surest 
means  to  accomplish  the  end  that  his  enemies  had  in  view. 

The  excitement  of  mind  produced  by  a  knowledge  of  these 
facts,  and  the  fear  of  not  realizing  those  confident  assurances  of 
success  which  were  manifested  by  his  friends,  incapacitated  him 
from  playing  on  the  second  night  of  announcement,  and  during 
the  afternoon  of  Saturday  he  sent  an  apology  to  the  manager. 

Late  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  he  despatched  the  follow- 
ing communication,  explanatory  of  his  reasons  for  returning  to 
Covent  Garden,  to  the  Drury  Lane  Committee  : — 

"  Gentlemen  : — In  an  unguarded  moment,  I  quitted  Covent 
Garden  Theatre  (where  the  most  eligible  situation  for  the  exer- 
tion of  my  professional  talents  was  open  to  me),  to  go  over  to 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  where  I  have  since  found  and  felt,  to  my 
cost,  that  every  character  which  I  was  either  desirous  or  capable 
of  playing,  was  already  in  possession,  and  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  my  appearing  in  the  same.  What  occasion,  therefore, 
could  you  have  for  me,  unless  to  crush  any  talent  that  I  may 
possess  in  its  infancy  ? 

"  I  have  now  seen  through  my  error,  and  have,  therefore,  re- 
newed the  negotiation,  which  was  so  unfortunately  interrupted, 
with  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  and  have  just 
signed  a  regular  article  with  them  for  three  years  ;  consequently, 


16"  THE   ACTOR  ; 

I  have  no  longer  the  power  of  appearing  again  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  and  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  take  my  name  en- 
tirely out  of  your  bills. 

"  I  have  heard,  Gentlemen,  that  your  treasury  has  benefited 
considerably  from  my  appearance  on  Thursday  last ;  I  ask  no 
pecuniary  recompense  for  it ;  I  only  request  that  you  will  not 
seek  to  persecute  or  molest  a  young  man  just  entering  into  life, 
and  who  cannot  afford  either  to  be  shelved  (according  to  theatrical 
phrase)  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  or  to  be  put  in  such  characters 
as  must  infallibly  mar  all  his  future  prospects. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be.  Gentlemen, 

"  Your  very  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"J.  B.  Booth.'' 

On  the  ensuing  morning,  the  following  placard  was  posted 
throughout  the  streets  of  London  : — 

"  THEATRE  ROYAL,  COVENT  GARDEN. 

"  The  public  are  respectfully  informed,  that  Mr.  Booth  has 
satisfactorily  arranged  his  differences  with  the  Proprietors  of  this 
Theatre,  and  is  engaged  by  them  for  three  years.  He  will  per- 
form King  Richard  the  Third  on  Tuesday  next,  Feb.  25,  which 
character,  for  two  successive  nights,  he  had  the  honor  to  be  called 
for  by  the  audience  to  repeat." 

This  notice  proved  to  be  the  first  blow  in  a  desperate  but  blood- 
less war  between  the  rival  houses,  which,  like  those  of  "  York 
and  Lancaster,"  ever  assumed  a  hostile  attitude. 

The  following  morning  brought  the  annexed  document  before 
the  public: — 

[circular.] 
"  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane,  Monday,  Feb.  24,  1817. 
"  In  consequence  of  the  disappointment  the  public  experienced 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  17 

on  Saturday  night  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  by  the  non-appearatice 
of  Mr.  Booth  in  the  character  of  lago,  and  hand-bills  having  been 
posted  yesterday  (Sunday)  in  all  parts  of  the  town,  stating  that 
Mr.  Booth  had  entered  into  an  engagement  with  the  Proprietors 
of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  for  three  years,  the  Manager  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  thinks  it  due  from  him  to  the  public,  to  state,  that 
on  Monday  last,  the  17th  instant,  Mr.  Booth  signed  a  written 
engagement  to  Drury  Lane  Theatre  for  three  years,  on  terms 
proposed  by  himself,  having  previously  stated  that  he  had  no 
engagement  with  the  Covent  Garden  Proprietors ;  that  all  treaty 
with  that  Theatre  was  at  an  end,  and  that  he  had  requested  his 
name  to  be  taken  out  of  their  bills,  which  had  accordingly  been 
done,  as  appeared  by  the  bills  of  that  day.  In  pursuance  of 
which  engagement  he  performed  the  part  of  lago  on  Thursday 
night,  and  was  announced  to  repeat  the  character  on  Saturday, 
the  22d,  Monday,  the  24th,  and  Tuesday,  the  25th  instant.  That 
about  half-past  three  o'clock,  on  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  the 
following  note  was  received  from  Mr.  Booth  : — 

"MR.    booth's   NOTE    TO    MR.    RAE. 

«*  Saturday,  Feb.  22,  1817. 

"  '  Mr.  Booth  presents  his  compliments  to  Mr.  Rae,  and  is  sorry 
to  inform  him  that  he  finds  himself  so  extremely  ill  from  the 
agitation  he  has  suffered  during  this  last  week,  that  it  is  totally 
out  of  his  power  to  perform  this  evening,  and  that  he  is  gone  a 
little  way  out  of  town  to  restore  his  health.' 

"  After  receiving  this  note,  the  Manager  was  not  prepared  for 
another  communication,  which  was  made  by  Mr.  Booth  late  on 
the  same  night  in  a  letter  to  the  Sub-Committee  of  Management, 
stating  the  fact  of  his  having  entered  into  a  new  engagement  with 
the  Proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  in  pursuance  of  which 
the  announcement  was  made  of  Mr.  Booth's  appearance  at  that 
Theatre  for  to-morrow  evening. 


18  THE  actor; 

"  The  Manager  does  not  presume  to  make  any  comment  on  this 
most  extraordinary  proceeding,  but  leaves  it  to  the  public  to  draw 
its  own  conclusions  as  to  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Booth,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  Proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  to  whom  his 
engagement  at  this  Theatre  has  been  notified,  and  who  can  have 
no  legal  claim  to  his  services." 

This  circular,  issued  by  the  Proprietors  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
was  followed  by  the  publication  of  the  annexed,  from  the  rival 
house : 

[circular.] 
"  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  Monday,  Feb.  24, 1817. 
"MR.    BOOTH. 

"  In  reply  to  the  Circular,  dated  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane, 
Feb.  24th,  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  feel  it  in- 
cumbent on  them  to  state  to  the  public,  the  following  facts  : — 

"  \st.  That  Mr.  Booth  having  performed  two  nights  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre,  and  a  negotiation  going  on  for  a  three  years' 
engagement,  the  Drury  Lane  Sub-Committee,  previous  to  their 
opening  a  treaty  with  Mr.  Booth,  were  bound,  by  long-established 
honorable  agreement,  to  apply  to  the  Covent  Garden  proprietors, 
and  learn  from  them  if  such  negotiation  was  broken  off;  but, 
contrary  to  such  fair  and  open  communication,  they,  in  the 
absence  of  the  Covent  Garden  proprietors,  sent  for  Mr.  Booth  to 
the  Committee-room,  where  he  hastily  signed  a  memorandum  for 
an  engagement ;  against  which  one  of  the  Covent  Garden  pro- 
prietors, on  his  coming  to  town  an  hour  afterwards,  openly  and 
vainly  remonstrated  with  the  Sub-Committee. 

"  2dZ?/.  That  under  such  circumstances,  the  proprietors  of  Co- 
vent Garden  Theatre,  conceiving  they  had  a  lawful  claim  on  Mr. 
Booth's  services,  were  about  to  take  legal  measures  against  him ; 
when,  through  the  medium  of  a  friend  of  Mr.  Booth,  who  saw  his 
distress  of  mind  in  consequence  of  the  perilous  situation  in  which 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  19 

he  had  rashly  and  unguardedly  placed  himself,  the  negotiation 
was  renewed,  and  finally  terminated  on  Saturday,  when  the 
Co  vent  Garden  proprietors  would,  with  pleasure,  have  permitted 
Mr.  Booth  to  perform  for  that  evening  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
but  he  was  literally  too  ill  to  make  the  attempt. 

"  Zdly.  For  the  truth  of  the  above  statement,  and  for  the  justice 
of  their  case,  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  are  ready 
to  refer  to  any  tribunal,  competent  to  decide  on  theatrical  ques- 
tions ;  but  whatever  may  be  the  result  of  the  decision,  the  pro- 
prietors of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  entreat  that  Mr.  Booth  may 
not  be  made  the  victim  of  disputes  between  the  two  Theatres ;  his 
youth  and  inexperience  alone  having  placed  him  in  a  dilemma, 
from  which,  it  is  hoped,  the  usual  candor  and  liberality  of  an 
English  public  will  still  rescue  him." 

Annexed  to  the  above,  was  a  document,  stating  that  a  person 
was  present  at  the  meeting  of  a  club,  called  the  Wolves,  and  that 
the  whole  party  had  "  pledged  themselves  to  drive  Mr.  Booth 
from  the  stage,"  but  that  the  proprietors  discredited  the  statement, 
believing  that  "  such  a  dreadful  combination  surely  never  could 
exist ;  the  severest  punishment  the  laws  could  inflict,  would  be 
too  lenient  for  such  conspirators  against  an  unprotected  and  inex- 
perienced youth." 

As  a  proof  of  the  accuracy  of  the  statements  made  by  the  pro- 
prietors of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  the  following  letter,  to  the 
manager,  from  the  Honorable  Douglas  Kinnaird,  was  published 
in  conjunction  with  it : — 

"to    H.    HARRIS,    ESQ. 

"  32  Clarges  Street,  Feb.  24, 1817. 
"  My  dear  Sir — The  terms  of  the  honorable  agreement  be- 
tween the  two  Patent  Theatres,  to  which  you  allude,  I  have  no 


2Q  ,;......,.  ^YEE  actor; 

difficulty  in  stating.  I  was  made  acquainted  with  them  as  soori 
as  I  was  called  upon  to  act  as  a  member  of  the  committee  for 
managing  Drury  Lane  Theatre  ;  and  this  act  of  our  predecessors 
was  confirmed  by  my  colleagues  and  myself  in  the  conviction  of 
its  being  for  our  mutual  benefit.  I  understood  it  to  be  distinctly 
agreed  upon,  that  when  either  party  became  aware  that  the  other 
Theatre  had  been  in  treaty  with  a  performer  within  a  year  from 
such  time,  that  they  were  first  to  ascertain  from  their  rival  that 
any  such  treaty  was  entirely  at  an  end  before  they  listened  to  any 
proposition  from  the  performer. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"  Douglas  Kinnaird." 

On  Tuesday,  the  25th  of  February,  Mr.  Booth  was  announced 
for  a  resumption  of  Richard  the  Third,  and  the  manager,  antici- 
pating a  disturbance  from  the  friends  and  patrons  of  the  opposi- 
tion house,  at  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon,  had  the  affidavit  of 
Mr.  Jas.  Salter,  an  attorney,  who  was  the  companion  of  Mr,; 
Booth,  on  Saturday,  posted  near  every  avenue  to  the  Theatre.! 
This  document  declared  that  the  tragedian  was  unwell,  com-- 
plained  of  sickness,  and  was  not  in  a  proper  condition  to  perform 
on  the  second  night,  when  announced  to  appear  with  Kean,  at 
Drury  Lane. 

A  house,  crowded  almost  to  suffocation,  awaited  Mr. Booth's  re- 
appearance at  Covent  Garden,  and  among  the  audience  were 
several  distinguished  theatrical  characters  connected  with  the 
opposition  house.  Mr.  Rae,  the  manager  of  Drury  Lane,  who 
occupied  a  front  seat  in  the  dress-circle,  was  greeted  with  shouts 
of  applause,  mingled  with  several  decisive  manifestations  of  dis- 
pleasure. 

When  Mr.  Booth  came  forward,  dressed  in  character,  he  was 
instantly  saluted  by  a  combination  of  every  sound  that  hostility 


OR,  A  PEEP-  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  21 

or  approbation  could  suggest.  As  groans  and  hisses,  however, 
are  more  effective  in  a  theatre  than  the  most  rapturous  applause, 
and  as  Mr.  Booth  was  marked  as  a  victim  to  the  jealousies  and 
malice  of  his  enemies,  who  were  sufficiently  numerous,  the 
rioters  triumphed. 

He  endeavored  to  address  the  audience,  but  convinced  of  its 
impracticability,  retired  upon  the  approach  of  Mr.  Fawcett,  who 
endeavored  to  obtain  a  hearing,  without  success. 

After  his  withdrawal,  an  attempt  was  made  to  proceed  with 
the  play,  but  in  vain,  and  the  drop  curtain  fell  in  a  few  minutes, 
for  the  close  of  the  first  act.  In  the  meantime,  a  placard  was 
displayed,  upon  a  pole,  which  exhibited  these  words  : — 

"  GRANT   SILENCE   TO   EXPLAIN," 

when  Mr.  Booth  came  forward,  alone,  to  profit  by  this  explana- 
tion, but  the  tumult  and  noise  prevented  him.  Another  appeal 
was  consequently  exhibited  : — 

"MR.    BOOTH    IS   WILLING   TO   APOLOGIZE." 

His  enemies,  however,  resolved  he  should  not  be  heard,  and,  of 
course,  a  hearing  was  denied  him.  This  was  followed  by  a  third 
placard : — 

"  CAN    ENGLISHMEN   CONDEMN   UNHEARD  ?" 

But  as  rowdyism  and  abuse  are  confined  to  no  particular  locality, 
the  uproar  continued  unabated. 

The  tragedy,  "  curtailed  of  its  fair  proportions,"  was  finally 
got  through  with  in  dumb  show,  nothing  being  heard  from  the 
stage,  and  at  its  conclusion^  Mr,^  Fawcett  led  Mr.  Booth  to  the 
audience,  where  his  friends  greeted  him  with  thunders  of 
applause. 

On  the  ensuing  morning,  the  following  was  published  and 
generally  circulated : — 


22  THE  actor; 

"MR.    booth's   appeal   TO   THE   PUBLIC. 

"  London,  Wednesday ,  Feb.  26,  1817. 

"  It  is  with  feelings  of  the  most  poignant  grief  that  I  found, 
by  my  reception  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  last  night,  that  I  had 
incurred  the  serious  displeasure  of  a  large  proportion  of  the 
audience. 

"  As  far  as  I  could  judge,  from  my  own  observation,  and  that 
of  my  friends,  the  accusations  against  me  were, 

"  First :  My  having  left  one  theatre,  to  renew  my  engagement 
in  another.  And,  Secondly  :  A  want  of  respect  to  the  public,  in 
not  performing  at  Drury  Lane  on  Saturday  last.  In  regard  to 
the  first  cause  of  complaint,  I  humbly  submit,  that  most  unex- 
pectedly entangled  as  I  have  been,  between  the  two  theatres, 
and  involved  in  a  contest  that  older  and  wiser  heads  than  mine 
might  have  erred  in ;  and  as  the  whole  matter  will  shortly  be 
explained  in  a  court  of  law,  I  earnestly  entreat  the  public  to  wait 
for  the  result  of  that  decision.  Respecting  the  second,  and,  to 
me,  by  far  the  most  serious  charge,  if  I  had  been  allowed  the 
honor  of  a  hearing,  I  think  I  could  have  satisfactorily  explained 
to  the  audience  that,  in  my  delicate  situation,  between  the  clash- 
ing interests  of  the  two  rival  theatres,  I  never  could  have  been 
such  a  fool,  or  a  madman,  as  to  have  done  a  wilful  act  to  offend 
the  public,  by  whose  favor  and  support  alone  I  was  to  exist  in 
my  profession. 

"  For  the  cause  of  my  absence  from  my  duty  on  Saturday,  I  am 
ready  to  make  the  same  affidavit  which  has  been  made  already 
by  Mr.  Salter,  who  was  with  me  at  the  time,  viz :  *  That  on 
Saturday  last,  I  did  complain  of  severe  indisposition,  owing  to  the 
anxiety  of  mind,  and  the  great  fatigue  I  had  suffered  during  the 
last  week  ;  and  that  I  was  so  seriously  indisposed,  that  I  found 
myself  totally  incapable  of  making  the  exertion  necessary  to 
perform  that  evening  \  and  that  I  wrote  the  same  to  Mr.  Rae, 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  23 

which  letter  was  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  by  three  o'clock  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  which  was  time  sufficient  to  have  had  hand- 
bills printed,  to  apprise  the  public  of  my  incapability  to  perform, 
and  prevent  my  being  the  cause  of  any  disappointment  to  the 
audience.' 

"  Had  I  thought  that  such  an  unfair  advantage  would  have  been 
taken  of  my  illness,  and  that  it  would  have  been  insinuated  from 
the  stage,  that  my  indisposition  was  feigned,  rather  than  have 
been  ungrateful  to  my  benefactors,  I  would,  at  all  hazards,  have 
performed,  even  though  death  had  been  the  consequence.  But 
as  in  every  month,  and  every  week  in  the  season,  instances  of 
apologies  for  performers,  on  the  score  of  indisposition,  are  ac- 
cepted, I  could  not  imagine  that  on  that  plea  I  should  be  made 
the  first  dreadful  example  of  public  indignation.  My  punishment 
already  has  been  severe  ;  and  surely  a  British  public,  a  name 
synonymous  with  generosity,  will  not,  for  an  involuntary  error, 
combine  to  deprive  a  fellow  citizen  of  the  means  of  supporting 
himself  and  family. 

"  And  again,  I  most  earnestly  conjure  the  public,  that,  if  they 
still  think  me  guilty  of  a  fault,  they  will  kindly  bring  to  their 
recollection  it  is  my  first ;  and  should  they  graciously  grant  me 
their  indulgence,  I  pledge  myself  that  it  shall  be  the  last,  I  will 
dedicate  my  whole  life  to  their  service,  and  ever  remain 
"  Their  most  devoted  and  attached  servant, 

"  J.  B.  Booth." 

This  apology,  humble,  and  satisfactory  to  the  intelligent  portion 
of  the  public,  did  not  produce  the  desired  result,  which  is  a  suffi- 
cient proof,  if  any  were  wanting,  that  some  other  feeling  besides 
disappointment  at  his  non-appearance  at  Drury  Lane,  in- 
fluenced the  absurd  and  despicable  conduct  of  a  portion  of  the 
audience. 


24 


CHAPTER  III. 

Circular  of  the  Drury  Lane  Committee — ^Reply  of  the  Opposition  Manage- 
ment—Placard of  Covent  Garden  Theatre— Fourth  Appearance  of  Booth, 
as  Richard,  at  Covent  Garden — His  Reception — Speech  from  the  Stage—  :< 
Opposition  to  Booth — Letter  of  Edmund  Kean— Letter  of  Alexander  Rae  = 
— Letter  of  John  Fawcett. 

The  day  previous  to  that  oq  which  Mr.  Booth's  appeal  was  made, 
through  the  columns  of  the  press,  the  following  circulars  appeared, 
which,  as  they  form  a  part  of  the  history  of  the  times,  may  not 
prove  devoid  of  interest  to  the  reader : — 

"  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane,  Tuesday ,  Feb.  25,  1817. 

"  The  managers  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  having  laid  before 
the  Sub-Committee  of  Management  the  posting- bill  issued  by  Co- 
vent Garden  Theatre  this  day,  respecting  Mr.  Booth,  have  been 
instructed  by  them  to  declare  that  they  never  entered  into,  or 
knew  of  the  existence  of  such  an  agreement  as  that  which  has 
been  stated  to  the  public  on  the  authority  of  a  letter  from  a  late 
member  of  their  own  body.  If  such  an  agreement  was  ever  en- 
tered into  with  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  it  must 
have  been  by  that  late  member  whose  letter  has  been  published, 
and  who,  on  other  occasions,  singly  acted  in  the  name  and  author- 
ity of  the  whole  Committee,  without  being  authorized  so  to  do. 
The  implied  understanding  which  has  existed  for  many  years 
between  the  theatres,  was  entered  into  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
venting any  tampering  with  and  inveigling  of  each  other's  regu- 
larly articled  performers,  and  was  never  construed  so  oppress- 
ively to  the  profession,  as  to  extend  to  actors  positively  discharged| 
or  to  those  who  had  merely  had  an  inconclusive  negotiation.         « 

"  If  any  proof  were  wanted  of  the  truth  of  this  statement,  it  is 


I 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  25 

found  in  innumerable  instances,  and  particularly  very  lately  in 
the  instance  of  a  celebrated  actress  (Mrs,  Glover),  who  only 
quitted  Drury  Lane  Theatre  at  the  close  of  the  last  season,  and 
yet  performed  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  at  the  commencement 
of  the  present  season,  without  any  leave  asked,  or  communica- 
tion whatever,  with  the  management  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre. 
Mr.  Booth  was  discharged  from  Covent  Garden  Theatre  at  the 
close  of  last  season  ;  he  returned  into  the  country,  and  there  con- 
cluded an  engagement  with  another  manager  upon  proof  of  his 
entire  discharge  from  his  prior  engagement. 

"  If  the  mere  appearance  at  the  theatre,  in  a  trial  part,  is  to 
preclude  all  theatres  from  engaging  the  performer  so  appearing, 
for  a  year,  it  will  be  in  the  power  of  any  manager  to  invite  any 
celebrated  provincial  performer  for  a  night,  then  offer  him  a 
salary  totally  inadequate  to  his  merits,  and  thereby  deprive  the 
metropolis  of  his  talent ;  or,  to  use  Mr.  Booth's  own  language, 
*  shelved  that  performer  for  a  whole  year.  An  agreement  that 
provided  such  a  result,  as  also  for  that  of  preventing  any  per- 
former, positively  discharged,  from  pursuing  his  profession  for  a 
whole  year  in  the  metropolis,  would  not,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Committee,  be  a  justifiable  protection  of  theatrical  property,  but 
an  attempt  to  oppress  and  enslave  a  respectable  profession  for  no 
one  laudable  object. 

"  This  statement  has  been  thought  due  to  the  public  ;  the  ques- 
tion is  now  fully  before  them  ;  and  the  manager  has  received 
final  instructions  to  take  no  further  notice  of  any  insinuations, 
misstatements,  or  calumnies,  from  whatsoever  quarter  they  may 


The  same  day  brought  a  response  from  the  enemy's  councils. 

"  Theatre  Royal,  Covent  Garden,  Feb,  25,  1817. 
"  In  the  extraordinary  situation  in  whigh  the  proprietors  of  this 

2 


26  THE   ACTOR  } 

theatre  are  placed  by  the  license  assumed  by  the  present  Commit- 
tee of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  to  disavow  the  acts  of  their  predeces- 
sors, they  are  compelled  to  state  to  the  public  in  corroboration  of 
the  direct  and  honorable  confirmation  their  statement  of  Tuesday 
has  received  from  a  gentleman,  who  notoriously  stood  foremost  in 
the  confidence  and  in  the  active  service  of  the  proprietors  of  that 
theatre,  that  they  are  ready  to  prove  that  the  late  Mr.  Sheridan 
entered  into  the  agreement  in  question,  whilst  the  late  patent  the- 
atres were  standing ;  and  that  Mr.  Whitbread  adopted  the  same 
in  the  first  year  of  his  superintending  the  management  of  the 
present  theatre.  The  Committee  have  been  guilty  of  a  misstate' 
ment  in  informing  the  public  that  the  proprietors  of  this  theatre 
engaged  Mrs.  Glover  to  perform  for  them,  without  previously 
ascertaining  from  one  of  the  Committee,  that  no  treaty  was  exist- 
ing between  that  lady  and  the  Committee. 

"  If  no  act  is  to  be  held  valid  on  the  part  of  the  present  Com- 
mittee which  was  not  sanctioned  by  every  member  of  the  late  body, 
the  proprietors  of  that  concern  will  best  judge  what  would  become 
of  their  property,  when  it  is  notorious  that  of  their  five  members, 
during  the  greater  part  of  last  summer,  only  one  ever  attended 
the  committee-room  on  the  days  of  business ;  and  that  after 
another  member  had  returned  from  the  circuit,  he  and  the  aforesaid 
gentleman  alone  conducted  the  business  of  the  theatre  for  a  consi- 
derable time. 

"  The  public  will  duly  appreciate  the  depth  of  the  reasoning 
and  the  ingenuity  of  the  proof,  that  theatrical  talent  must  suffer, 
from  an  honorable  agreement  between  the  two  theatres,  that  when 
either  party  becomes  aware  that  the  other  has  been  within  a  year  in 
treaty  {much  more  in  an  engagement)  with  a  performer,  they  shall 
first  ascertain  from  that  other  party  that  such  treaty  is  at  an  end, 
before  they  shall  proceed  to  negotiate  with  the  performer, 

"If  the  Committee  begin  now  to  feel  the  ill  consequences  of  their 
own  miscmiduct,  let  them  at  once  consult  the  interests  of  their  con- 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND    THE    CURTAIN.  27 

stituents,  if  not  their  own,  and  repair  their  error  by  binding  them- 
selves formally  not  to  repeat  it.  If  they  do  not,  let  them  answer 
for  the  result  to  their  body  of  proprietors.  The  proprietors  of  this 
theatre  have  no  interest  in  such  an  agreement  that  is  not  common 
to  both.  But  it  is  very  easy  for  an  amateur  theatrical  Sub-Com- 
mittee, with  independent  fortune — no  responsibility — and  tempora- 
ry power,  to  abolish  laws,  and  make  or  annul  agreements  at  their 
pleasure  ;  but  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  like  other 
traders  in  this  great  commercial  country,  being  personally  liable 
for  their  debts,  feel  it  incumbent  on  them  to  act  in  their  own  de- 
fence, by  which  alone  they  can  pay  their  creditors — uphold  the 
drama — and  contribute  to  the  fair  and  rational  amusement  of  the 
public." 

On  the  morning  of  the  Wednesday  following  Mr.  Booth's  third 
appearance,  the  annexed  notice  was  appended  to  the  play-bills  of 
Covent  Garden  Theatre : 

"  Mr.  Booth  last  Tuesday  made  his  third  appearance  at  this 
theatre,  in  the  character  of  King  Richard  the  Third,  After  re- 
peated attempts  to  give  an  explanation  to  the  audience,  and  implore 
them  not  to  suffer  an  humble  individual  to  be  made  the  victim  of 
disputes  between  the  two  theatres,  no  hearing  was  allowed  him ; 
but,  as  far  as  the  proprietors  could  judge  from  the  cheering  at  the 
dropping  of  the  curtain,  a  vast  majority  of  the  audience  was  in 
his  favor.  Mr.  Booth  will  therefore  perform  Richard  again  on 
Saturday  next,  and  throws  himself  on  the  mercy  and  liberality  of 
Englishmen." 

In  accordance  with  the  above,  Mr.  Booth  made  his  fourth 
appearance  on  Saturday  the  first  of  March,  to  an  overflowing 
house.  His  entree  was  made  amidst  the  most  tumultuous  cheer- 
ing, mingled  with  the  hisses  of  his  enemies.  Boughs  of  laurel 
and   bouquets  in  abundance  fell  at  his  feet,  but  the  performance 


■2S  THE  actor; 

was  frequently  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  the  hired  ruffians  that 
were  in  attendance.  A  placard  was  unfolded  by  one  of  the 
audience  on  which  was  printed  : — 

"  HE  HAS  BEEN  PUNISHED  ENOUGH,  LET  US  FORGIVE  HIM," 

which  called  forth  various  expressions  of  opinion.  Some  feeble 
cries  of  "  apology !"  resounded  from  the  pit,  to  which  Mr. 
Booth  testified  an  unbending  inattention  and  proceeded  with  his 
character.  Mr.  Fawcett,  however,  made  the  attempt  to  address 
the  audience,  but  without  success. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  second  act,  a  paper  was  thrown 
to  Mr.  Booth  from  the  pit,  which  he  perused  and  retired  to  the 
stage  door,  from  which,  after  a  short  conference,  he  returned 
hand  in  hand  with  Mr.  Fawcett,  who  demanded  if  the  public  wish 
was  that  Mr.  Booth  should  be  heard,  or  otherwise. 

A  perfect  torrent  of  applause  seemed  to  justify  an  affirmative 
construction,  when  Mr.  Booth,  stepping  forward,  said  : —  J 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen : — I  have  endeavored  all  in  my  power 
to  atone  for  the  disappointment  to  which  I  was  instrumental  in 
another  place.  I  have  apologized  for  my  conduct  on  that  oc- 
casion, and  endeavored  to  explain  the  circumstances  under  which 
that  conduct  was  influenced.  I  now  again  most  humbly  and 
sincerely  repeat  my  apology." 

Mr.  Booth  then  resumed  his  character,  and  proceeded  through 
the  second  act  under  mingled  hisses  and  applause. 

He  then  re-appeared  hand  in  hand,  with  Mr.  Fawcett,  as  before, 
preceded  by  this  inscription  : — 

"  MR.  BOOTH  CRAVES  YOUR  SILENCE  TO  EXPLAIN  AND  APOLOGIZE." 

This  was  immediately  replied  to,  by  the  rise  of  another 
placard : — 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  29 

"  HEAR  BOOTH,  OF  OLD  DRURY,  TN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE," 

which  occasioned  great  clamor  and  confusion. 

Mr.  Booth  then  succeeded  in  addressing  the  audience  as 
follows : — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen : — I  have  done  everything  in  my  power 
to  express  the  sense  I  entertain  of  my  offence,  and  I  am  willing  to 
do  so  again  in  any  way  you  shall  suggest." 

But  even  this  did  not  control  the  turbulence  and  noise  of  a 
portion  of  the  audience,  as  the'hired  emissaries  of  Booth's  enemies 
were  paid  to  interfere  with  the  performance. 

The  curtain  fell,  and  immediately  there  was  a  simultaneous 
shout  for  Booth,  who  appeared,  preceded  by  the  following  v — 

"  I  HAVE  ACTED  WRONG  ;    I  HAVE   MADE   AN   APOLOGY,  AND   THROW 
MYSELF    ON    THE    CANDOR    OF   ENGLISHMEN." 

The  applause  now  became  deafening,  but  Mr.  Booth  not  being 
able  to  obtain  a  hearing,  retired,  and  Mr.  Fawcett  announced  a 
repetition  of  the  play  for  the  Monday  following. 

The  opposition  to  Booth  finally  became  allayed  by  the  admira- 
tion which  his  extraordinary  ability  excited,  and  he  was  nightly 
greeted  by  the  approbation  of  large  and  enthusiastic  audiences. 

The  following  letter  of  Mr.  Kean,  to  the  editor  of  one  of  the 
daily  papers,  will  be  read  with  interest : — 

"Sir, — I  think  it  my  duty,  in  justice  to  a  society  of  which  I 
once  had  the  honor  of  being  a  member,  to  refute  a  most  malicious 
piece  of  calumny.  The  Wolf  Club  seems  to  have  been  the  foil 
with  which  the  friends  of  the  rival  theatre  have,  for  the  last  two 
years,  parried  the  public  censure  against  their  unsuccessful  can- 
didates.    I  wish,  therefore,  through  the  medium  of  the  public 


30  THE   ACTOR  ; 

prints,  to  inform  their  fears,  that  such  a  society  is  no  longer  in 
existence,  has  not  been  for  the  last  nine  months,  and  when  it  was, 
the  principles  of  the  institution  were  founded  on  integrity  and 
universal  'philanthropy, 

"  The  misrepresentations  with  regard  to  this  society  laid  before 
the  public,  rendered  it  unjustly  an  object  of  reprobation,  and  in 
acknowledgment  of  my  duty  to  that  public  I  resigned  it. 

"  With  regard  to  Mr.  Booth,  that  I  have  the  highest  opinion  of 
his  talents,  1  gave  proof,  when  I  recommended  his  engagement  to 
the  Drury  Lane  Committee.  If  any  one  shall  assert  that  I  would 
individually  or  accessorily  do  anything  detrimental  to  the  interests 
of  Mr.  Booth,  or  any  brother  professionals,  I  should  be  happy 
in  person  to  tell  the  propagator  of  such  a  report,  that  it  is  a 
Falsehood. 

"  I  remain,  sir,  with  the  greatest  respect, 

"  Your  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  Edmund  Kean. 

«  12  Clarges  Street,  Feb.  26,  1817." 

From  the  mass  of  letters  and  circulars  that  were  published  in 
the  daily  papers,  we  subjoin  the  following,  as  being  intimately 
connected  with  our  subject. 

"to  the  editor. 
^^  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane,  Sunday,  March  2,  1817. 
"  Sir, — A  communication  has  appeared  in  a  paper  of  this  dayj*is 
repeating  what  has  already  been  stated  in  almost  every  daily  pa-w 
per,  '  that  on  Tuesday  evening  last,  I  was  in  one  of  the  fronlj 
boxes  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  during  the  whole  performance.1 
As  the  communication  purports  to  come  from  the  manager  of  the 
above  theatre,  it  seems  to  convey  an  imputation  that  I  went  for 
the  purpose  of  encouraging  the  opposition  to  Mr.  Booth's  perform- 
ance ;  I,  therefore,  think  it  due  to  myself  individually  (though 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  31 

restrained  by  positive  orders  from  the  Sub-Committee  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  from  making  any  further  statement  on  their  behalf) 
to  affirm  that  I  went  there  officially,  by  the  acquiescence  and  sanc- 
tion of  the  Sub-Committee,  for  the  purpose  (if  Mr.  Booth  ex- 
pressed any  intention  of  returning  to  his  duty  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  which  was  not  totally  unexpected)  of  expressing  their 
sentiments  on  the  subject,  and  of  generally  explaining  their  mo- 
tives and  conduct,  in  answer  to  any  attack  that  might  have  been 
made  upon  them  from  any  quarter  of  the  theatre.  I  solemnly 
declare,  that  I,  neither  by  word  or  sign,  took  the  least  part  in  the 
tumult  that  prevailed,  and,  for  the  truth  of  this  statement,  I  ap- 
peal to  those  who  accompanied  me,  and  to  those  who  were  near 
enough  to  observe  me. 

"  I  am,  sir,  with  respect, 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"  Alexander  Rae.'' 

We  conclude  the  subject  and  the  chapter,  with  the  reply  of 
the  Covent  Garden  Manager : — 

"to  the  editor. 
"  Theatre  Royal,  Covent  Garden,  March  3,  1817. 
"  Sir, — Mr.  Rae  has  complained  of  a  paragraph,  which  states 
he  was  in  the  boxes  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  on  one  of  the 
nights  of  riot,  and  he  is  pleased  to  attribute  the  offensive  article 
to  the  manager  of  Covent  Garden.  If  by  the  manager  he  means 
the  humble  individual  who  signs  this,  I  beg  to  assure  him  he  is 
in  error,  and  I  am  sorry  he  who  knows  better,  should  make  no 
distinction  between  the  Manager  and  others  who  might  have  made 
the  communication..  Mr.  Rae,  by  his  own  showing,  came  into  the 
boxes  with  an  intent  to  address  the  audience,  if  an  opportunity 
had  offered,  not  of  his  own  free  willy  but  sent  by  the  Sub-Commit- 
tee of  Drury  Itane,     This  disagreeable  employment  should  have 


THE   ACTOR  ; 


i 


taught  him,  that  it  is  possible  an  acting  manager  may  be  oMiged 
to  do  what  he  knows  is  not  right.  So  that  even  had  he  thought 
I  did  write  the  article  in  question,  fellow-feeling  should  have  re- 
strained him  from  bringing  me  before  the  public  in  the  capacity 
of  manager.  Once  for  all,  I  disclaim  it,  as  I  do  imputing  to  Mr. 
E.ae  anything  improper  or  ungentlemanly.  So  that  I  sincerely 
wish  that  the  Sub-Committee  may  still  confide  to  him  the  task  of 
addressing  the  audience  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  (if  they  think 
it  decorous  to  continue  the  innovation),  and  that  the  prompter,  the 
under  music-copier,  and  other  subordinates,  may  no  longer  be  per- 
mitted to  disturb  their  rival's  house ;  for  certainly  they  have  mani- 
fested that  they  do  not  know  so  well  how  to  conduct  themselves. 

"  The  town  must  surely  think  it  indecent,  and  highly  disrespect- 
ful to  them,  for  one  theatre  to  send  persons  into  the  other  to  inter- 
fere. I  believe  no  such  commission  would  ever  be  offered  to  me 
by  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden  ;  but  I  am  free  to  confess,  if 
such  could  be  attempted,  I  would  resist  the  mandate  at  all  ha- 
zards; for  if  1  appeared  in  the  lower  boxes  of  Drury  Lane  for 
the  purpose  of  addressing  or  disturbing  the  audience,  I  should 
expect  what  I  should  be  convinced  I  deserved,  to  be  turned  out 
with  contempt. 

"  I  am,  sir, 

"  Yours, 

"John  Fawcett.'* 

We  hope  the  reader  will  not  be  tempted  to  exclaim  with  Mer« 
cutioj  "  A  plague  on  both  your  houses  1" 


33 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Booth's  Richard  repeated—Kean  in  the  same  character—Their  peculiar 
points  and  readings  compared — Booth's  Sir  Giles  Overreach— Remarks 
upon  a  **  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts  " — Booth's  Posthumus  in  **  Cymbe- 
line  "—Production  of  the  •*  Curfew  " — Booth's  assumption  of  Sir  Ed- 
ward Mortimer  in  the  play  of  the  **  Iron  Chest " — Revival  of  the  "  Con- 
^  quest  of  Taranto  " — Dibut  in  Edinburgh  —Performance  of  Sir  Giles— 

-. ■  Letter  to  a  Critic — Provincial  Tour— Return  to  Covent  Garden. 

pN  the  third  and  sixth  of  March,  1817,  Mr.  Booth  repeated  his 
performance  of  Richard  the  Third  to  overflowing  houses,  and 
though  some  slight  disapprobation  was  manifested  by  his  oppo- 
nents, the  applause  throughout  was  long  and  enthusiastic. 

At  this  period,  Mr.  Kean,  in  the  representation  of  Richard, 
was  considered  the  standard  of  perfection  by  which  every  new  can- 
didate for  public  favor  was  adjudged,  and  the  critjcs,  in  com- 
paring the  merits  of  Booth  with  their  model  of  excellence,  highly 
extolled  him,  for  the  melody  of  his  voice,  his  correct  and  appro- 
priate gesticulation,  his  exhaustless  physical  strength  and  energy, 
and  his  originality  of  conception  and  execution. 

Of  course  there  were  not  wanting  hireling  pens  to  decry  his 
abilities,  particularly  at  a  period  when  the  Kembles  were  nightly 
attracting  attention,  and  when  the  abilities  of  an  actor  seem,  by  a 
portion  of  the  critics,  to  have  been  measured  more  by  the  height 
and  dignity  of  his  person,  than  by  the  possession  of  intellectual 
merit. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  Kean,  who,  in  defiance  of  the  pre- 
judices of  the  admirers  of  Kemble,  adopted  an  entire  new  system 

2* 


34  THE  actor;  j 

of  acting,  founded  on  that  of  Cooke,  would  have  met  but  little 
favor  from  the  press,  had  he  not  commanded  admiration  by  his 
startling  manifestations  of  genius,  in  the  portrayal  of  deep  and 
earnest  passion.  Mr.  Kean's  acting  is  said  to  have  been  most 
powerful  in  particular  passages,  and  that  at  one  moment,  he 
almost  inspired  a  feeling  of  disgust  by  his  want  of  judgment  or 
ability,  and  the  next,  challenged  admiration  by  a  sudden  flash  of 
intellectual  brightness.  In  a  notice  of  Mr.  Kean's  efforts  in 
Richard,  which  we  find  in  the  English  Magazine,  published  in 
1820,  the  writer,  after  alluding  to  his  extraordinary  ability  in 
several  scenes,  says : 

"  The  most  striking  feature  of  Mr.  Kean's  connecting  efforts 
was  confined,  upon  his  appearance  in  the  Tower,  to  a  vile  habit 
of  pausing  between  the  members  of  a  sentence,  where  no  break 
should  be  allowed ;  thus,  when  alluding  to  the  sentiment  that 
posterity  will  entertain  of  his  crimes, — 

'  Will  they  not  say,  too. 


That  to  possess  the  crown,  nor  laws  divine 

Nor  human  stop'd  my  way  ?  why,  let  'em say  it ;' 

and  again : 

'  But  did'st  thou  see  'em dead  ?' 

"  The  anhelation  of  suspense, — while  big  and  breathless  with 
anxiety,  so  greatly  portrayed  by  Mr.  Kean's  competitor  at  Co- 
vent  Garden*  was  here  coldly  kept  out  of  sight,  and  we  saw  no 
ebullition  of  reported  genius,  till  the  fiery  flashings-out  of  that 
spirit  which,  upon  Cateshy^s  intelligence,  is  doomed  to  animate 
the  remainder  of  the  scene.     Here,  indeed,  a  few  straggling 

*  "  We  have  praised,  and  that  highly,  the  great  talents  of  Mr.  Booth 
alluded  to  in  this  particular  scene  on  a  former  occasion ;  here,  however, 
we  can  confidently  repeat  the  most  solemn  assurance  of  its  extraordinary 
extent." — English  Magazine, 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  35 

hisses  have  more  than  once  reminded  Mr.  Kean  of  his  mortality, 
but  we  are  not  inclined  to  advocate  so  rude  a  remembrancer  of 
physical  weakness." 

One  of  Booth's  finest  scenes  is  in  the  second  act,  in  which  he 
manifested  the  possession  of  that  extraordinary  quickness  of  con- 
ception and  power  of  execution,  which  have  rendered  him  famous. 

We  quote,  from  the  same  work,  a  description  of  his  manner  of 
representing  the  scene : — 

Enter  Lieutenant,  hastily. 

Lieu.  My  lord,  I  beg  your  grace 

Glo.  Begone,  fellow  :  Pm  not  at  leisure. 

Lieu.  My  lord,  the  king  your  brother's  taken  ilL 

Glo.  Til  wait  on  him  ! 

Here  Mr.  Booth  met  the  first  question  with  a  peevish  reply, 
but  having  caught  up  the  illness  of  his  brother,  burst  upon  the 
messenger  with  eagerness  and  exultation, 

*^  Hold  ye-^where  shall  he  keep  his  court  ?" 

{Here  a  sudden  thought  beamed  upon  the  speaker's  countenance, 
hut  quickly  subsided,) 

"  The  Tower  ? 
Ay— {with  exulting  decision).     The  Tower  !" 

Mr.  Booth's  by-play  was  extremely  felicitous  in  the  above 
scene,  and  always  commanded  a  lengthened  peal  of  applause. 

But  while  Kean  appears  to  have  depended  more  upon  sudden 
and  unexpected  displays  of  genius.  Booth  presented  a  perfect 
succession  of  "  brilliants,"  with  a  proper  regard  for  the  "  setting." 
The  only  means  of  comparing  the  two  actors,  within  our  reach, 
we  find  in  the  criticisms  on  Kean's  acting.     One  of  his  warmest 


36  THE  actor; 

admirers,  after  having  descanted  at  length  upon  his  merits,  says^ 
"  The  monologue  so  dexterously  interpolated  from  '  Henry  the 
Fifth/  exhibits  Mr.  Kean  in  no  favorable  light  as  a  fortuitous  de- 
claimer.  The  start  that  follows  his  succeeding  dream  possesses 
but  a  flimsy  title  to  praise,  for  though  pregnant  with  facilities  for 
forcible  expression,  Mr,  Kean,  at  its  most  portentous  juncture, 
drops  his  face  upon  his  bosom,  or  buries  it  in  his  hands.*  Nor 
does  he  redeem  this  deficiency  by  superior  merit  in  pronouncing 
the  great  renovation  of  ^  Richard's  himself  again,'  which,  to 
reach  its  proper  elTect,  demands  a  natural  organ  of  more  capa- 
cious power." 

Mr.  Booth  in  this  same  scene  has  won  a  reputation  that  will 
live  as  long  as  the  play  remains  upon  the  stage.  We  find  our- 
selves inadequate  to  do  it  justice.  All  that  the  reader  can  im- 
agine of  a  display  of  concentrated  agony,  fear,  and  remorse,  was 
exhibited  in  the  convulsed  form,  the  trembling  limbs,  the  wildness 
of  the  eye,  and  the  complete  apparent  prostration  of  every 
faculty. 

In  the  manner  of  reading  the  text,  Mr.  Kean  and  Mr.  Booth 
do  not  appear  to  have  exhibited  a  corresponding  judgment.  Thus 
Mr.  Kean  was  wont  to  say : — 

"  Into  this  breathing  world  scarce  half  made  w/?," 

while  Mr.  Booth,  knowing  the  previous  word  "  Imlf^^  compressed 
the  whole  sum  of  his  calamity,  placed  the  emphasis  accordingly  ; 
and  again,  Mr.  Kean  read : — 

«  Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind,'* 

*  Mr.  Charles  Kean,  in  Richard  (a  performance  beneath  criticism),  fol 
lows  the  example  of  his  father  in  this  scene,  but  however  much  originality 
his  parent  may  have  possessed,  the  son  has  manifested  no  share  of  it 


OR,   A   PEE]?   BEHIND   THE   CITRTAIN.  37 

while  Booth  emphasised  the  word  guilty,     Kean  also  said  : — 

"  If  want  of  pity  be  a  crime  so  hateful, 
Whence  is  it  thou,  fair  excellence,  art  guilty  ?" 

and  Booth, 

"  Whence  is  it  thou,  fair  excellence,  art  guilty  ?" 

In  his  interview  with  Lady  Anne,  at  his  entrance,  Kean  said  :— 

"  Ha  !  still  in  tears  ?    Let  'em  flow  on ;  they're  signs 
Of  a  substantial  grief,*' 

but  Booth, 

"  Of  a  substantial  grief." 

We  might  quote  the  character  through,  however,  to  prove  their 
different  methods  of  emphasis,  for  the  only  similarity  between 
the  two  actors  appears  to  have  consisted  in  their  personal  appear- 
ance, in  having  adopted  the  same  rdle,  and  the  same  school  of 
acting. 

Booth's  next  appearance  was  as  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  in  "  A 
New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts,"  which  proved  equally  attractive 
for  many  successive  nights,  and  won  for  him  the  general  admira- 
tion of  all  beholders. 

This  character,  like  that  of  Richard,  is  marked  for  its  deter- 
mined subjection  of  moral  feelings  to  the  individual  will,  and 
possesses  "  hope  in  which  there  is  no  cheerfulness ;  steadfastness 
within,  and  immoveable  resolve,  with  outward  restlessness  and 
whirling  activity ;  violence  with  guile ;  temerity  with  cunning ; 
and,  as  the  result  of  all,  interminableness  of  object  with  perfect 
indifference  of  means." 


38  THE  actor; 

All  Sir  Giles's  ambition  is  upon  the  accomplishment  of  one  end 
— ^the  aggrandizement  of  his  daughter  ;  and,  like  Richard,  whose 
eyery  idea  is  fixed  upon  the  attainment  of  the  crown,  all  other 
considerations  are  lost  sight  of  in  the  pursuit.  Sighs,  nor  tears, 
nor  the  rebukings  of  conscience,  interrupt  the  bold  and  heartless 
determination  of  either. 

It  was  in  the  delineation  of  bold  and  obdurate  guilt,  and  ago- 
nizing remorse,  that  Booth  was  pre-eminent ;  and  amidst  the  most 
violent  outbursts  of  passion,  his  sense  of  the  importance  of  never 
violating  nature  and  truth  did  not  desert  him. 

His  portraiture  of  Sir  Giles,  notwithstanding  the  many  peculi- 
arities of  the  character,  has  been  considered  by  many  judicious 
critics  as  the  greatest  effort  of  his  genius ;  yet  we  are  not  willing 
to  award  it  more  praise  than  some  of  his  other  assumptions.  In 
fact,  it  is  a  matter  of  considerable  question,  whether  Sir  Giles 
ever  had  any  prototype  in  nature.  That  a  man  should  disregard 
the  widow's  curse,  the  orphan's  prayer,  his  reputation  here,  and 
his  hopes  of  a  hereafter,  merely  to  secure  his  daughter  the  title 
of  "  Right  Honorable,"  is,  in  our  opinion,  a  stretch  of  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  poet,  not  warranted  by  truth;  still,  the  character  of 
Sir  Giles  is  one  that  embraces  an  ample  field  for  the  display  of 
those  passions,  in  the  delineation  of  which  Mr.  Booth  was  so 
successful. 

How  admirably  he  delivered  the  sarcastic  language  with  which 
the  part  abounds,  and  how  truly  his  mien  and  actions  corres- 
ponded with  the  knavish  disposition  of  Sir  Giles,  those  only  who 
have  witnessed  him  can  conceive. 

His  interviews  with  Marrall ;  his  delight  at  the  marriage, 
which  he  thinks  will  secure  his  daughter's  connection  with 
Lovell ;  his  dismay  and  astonishment  when  he  discovers  the 
deed  without  a  signature,  and  his  mental  distress  when  he  finds 
his  hopes  and  plans  blasted,  have  never  been  depicted  by  anjF 
actor  with  more  power  and  truth. 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  39 

In  the  last  scene,  wherein  he  utters  the  following,  and  rushes^ 
madly  towards  his  daughter,  his  fiend-like  countenance  and  in- 
furiated rage,  no  language  can  properly  describe : — 


-  Shall  I  then  fall 


i  Ingloriously  and  yield  ?  No !  spite  of  fate 

I  will  be  forc'd  to  hell,  like  to  myself! 
Though  you  were  legions  of  accursed  spirits, 
Thus  would  I  fly  among  you.'* 

Richard  and  Sir  Giles  were  repeated,  alternately,  until  the 
15th  of  March,  when  Shakspere's  play  of  "  Cymbeline"  was  pro. 
duced  with  Booth  as  Posthumus,  Mr.  Young  as  lacJiamo,  and  Mr. 
Charles  Kemble  as  Polydore.  This  new  assumption  of  Booth's 
obtained  for  him  the  warmest  eulogiums,  and  was  repeated  al- 
most weekly  during  the  season. 

We  find  the  impossibility  of  noticing,  at  length,  all  of  Mr. 
Booth's  characters,  and  shall,  therefore,  confine  our  remarks  to 
those  parts  in  which  we  have  witnessed  him. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  month,  a  romantic  drama,  called 
"  The  Curfew,"  was  revived,  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  Mr. 
Booth  in  the  part  of  Fitzharding,  a  character  "  endeared  to  its 
spectators  by  the  ardor  of  his  courage  and  the  intensity  of  his 
sufierings."  His  performance  was  honored  by  loud  and  vehe- 
ment applause,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  piece,  Mr.  Henry 
Harris  and  Mr.  Fawcett  proceeded  to  the  dressing-room  of  Mr. 
Booth,  and  congratulated  him  on  the  success  of  his  efforts. 

On  the  eleventh  of  April,  Coleman's  "  Iron  Chest"  was  an- 
nounced, with  Booth  as  Sir  Edward  Mortimer ,  in  which  he  added 
another  laurel  to  his  brow. 

This  character,  the  original  of  which  the  reader  will  find  in 
Godwin's  novel  of  "  Caleb  Williams,"  is  well  developed,  although 
the  play,  considered  entire,  is  decidedly  of  a  melo-dramatic  cast. 


40  TH£  actor; 

There  is  scope,  however,  for  fine  acting.  The  jealousy  of 
honor,  which  Sir  Edward  betrays,  the  description  of  the  circum- 
stances of  his  life,  and  his  revenge  and  remorse,  afford  an  oppor- 
tunity for  the  display  of  an  actor's  powers. 

One  of  the  finest  points  in  Booth's  representation  was  the  scene 
in  the  library,  in  which  he  discovers  Wilford  examining  the  con- 
tents of  the  chest.  The  look  with  which  he  regards  his  secretary, 
the  paroxysm  of  terror  and  revenge,  and  the  manner  of  adminis- 
tering the  oath,  were  perfect  triumphs  of  the  actor's  art. 

It  was  in  the  representation  of  highly  excited  passion,  of  bursts 
of  frantic  rage,  or  the  agony  of  unutterable  feeling,  that  Mr. 
Booth  was  remarkable.  In  deep  and  malignant  sarcasm,  in  the 
portrayal  of  triumphant  villainy,  or  brooding  hate,  we  doubt  if  he 
ever  had  a  superior ;  while  the  regard  that  he  paid  to  the  consis- 
tency and  harmony  of  the  characters  represented,  was  equally 
creditable  to  his  taste  and  judgment. 

Shortly  after  the  production  of  the  "  Iron  Chest,"  the  "  Con- 
quest of  Taranto  "  was  performed,  Mr.  Booth  sustaining  the  part 
of  Rinaldo,  Mr.  Macready,  Valentio,  and  Mr.  Young,  Ahen 
Harriet,  and  was  represented  with  great  success,  for  several 
successive  nights. 

The  plot  of  the  piece  was  taken  from  a  French  play,  and  the 
language,  though  not  devoid  of  beautiful  passages,  is  bombastic 
and  inflated.  Mr.  Booth,  however,  won  much  deserved  applause 
in  his  embodiment  of  Rinaldo, 

The  characters  that  we  have  already  enumerated,  were  sus- 
tained by  Mr.  Booth,  during  the  season,  to  large  and  admiring 
audiences,  notwithstanding  John  Philip  Kemble  was  very  attrac- 
tive at  the  same  house,  and  Kean  was  equally  successful  at 
Drury  Lane. 

At  the  close  of  the  season,  Mr.  Booth  went  on  a  provincial 
tour,  and  in  November,  1818,  made  his  first  appearance  in  Edin- 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  41 

burgh,  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  as  Richard  the  Third,  to  a  large 
and  fashionable  audience.  This  was  followed  by  Sir  Giles  Over- 
reach and  Hotspur,  in  both  of  which  characters  he  won  great 
praise  from  the  greater  portion  of  the  audience ;  but  he  had  still 
to  contend  against  the  friends  of  Kean,  some  of  whom  displayed 
their  critical  acumen  through  the  columns  of  the  press. 

A  critic  in  the  Edinburgh  Reflector,  in  noticing  his  perform- 
ance of  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  after  charging  him  with  being  an 
imitator  of  Kean,  says :  "  His  best  scene  was  that  in  which  he 
anticipates  his  daughter's  marriage  with  Lord  Lovell,  when  he  is 
*  full  of  joy ;  nay,  joy  all  over.'  He  was  here  exceedingly 
effective,  and  was  greeted  with  the  loudest  plaudits,  as,  in  fact, 
he  was  throughout  the  whole  performance,  at  intervals,  and  the 
curtain  fell  amidst  tumultuous  cheering." 

It  was  rather  surprising,  if  Mr.  Booth  was  such  a  decided 
imitator  of  Kean,  that  the  astute  and  learned  audiences  of  the 
classical  city  of  Edinburgh  should  have  "  greeted  "  him  "  with 
the  loudest  plaudits  throughout  the  whole  performance,"  and  the 
charge  falls  to  the  ground,  when  we  reflect  that  Mr.  Booth's  most 
masterly  and  unapproachable  assumption,  Pescara,  Mr.  Kean 
never  attempted. 

The  following  characteristic  letter  published  in  the  Caledonian 
Mercury,  shows  that  he  was  not  entirely  proof  against  the  attacks 
of  the  MacGrawlers  of  the  press,  whose  similar  efforts  at  criti- 
cism crushed  the  spirit  of  poor  Conway  : — 

**  To  the  Author  of  the  articles  called  '  The  Brama^  contained  in  the 
first  numbers  of  the  Edinburgh  Reflector. 

"  *  I  do  despise  them, 

For  they  do  prank  them  in  authority 
Beyond  all  noble  sufferance.' — Shakspere. 

"  It  was  with  an  intention  to  falsify  the  assertions,  and  evidently 


42  THE  actor; 

to  repel  the  attacks  of  people  like  yourself  (who,  through  the 
medium  of  some  publication,  wish  to  palm  themselves  upon  the 
world  as  Judges  and  Dramatic  Censors),  that  I  condescended,  for 
the  first  time,  to  give  an  imitation*  of  your  Leviathan.  By  this 
mode  only,  it  was  suggested  to  me,  I  should  be  exculpated  in  the 
public  mind,  and  throw  malevolent  and  ill  founded  attacks  on  my 
professional  attempts  to  the  ground.  In  the  dpinion  of  those 
present,  to  my  own  satisfaction,  I  convinced  them  my  efforts  were 
original  (or  more  so  than  your  vile  copied  trash  of  Hazlitt's). 

"  I  am  too  proud — too  impatient,  to  descend  to  an  imitation  of 
any  actor  I  have  yet  seen,  but  for  the  purpose  of  refuting  hired 
calumny.  My  personal  resemblance  to  the  reigning  actor  of  the 
present  day,  is,  by  me,  considered  a  curse,  as  it  has  proved  a  bar 
to  me  in  my  profession,  in  affording  a  clue  for  the  hirelings  of 
the  press  to  form  their  attacks,  in  perceiving  many  unreflecting 
people  believed  what  such  reports  said  of  my  exertions,  by  a 
sensible  decrease  in  attraction,  solely  owing  to  such  remarks 
remaining  uncontradicted.  By  your  aspersions  I  am  called  on 
to  answer  you.  I  here  distinctly  avow  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth 
or  judgment  in  your  articles  on  theatrical  criticism.  It  would 
behove  the  editor  or  publisher  of  the  Reflector  to  choose  a  writer 
who  comprehended  what  he  wrote  about,  without  being  biased 
by  a  good  dinner,  or  half  a  guinea, 

"  If  your  knowledge  of  political  and  literary  matter  be  as 
profound  as  that  you  profess  concerning  actors,  Mr.  Hazlitt  says, 
he'll  turn  Reflector,  or  anything. 

"  The  critical  scribbler  quotes,  in  his  title  page,  this  apology-^ 
you  know  the  work  : — 

*  For  I  am  nothing,  if  not  critical.' 

*  Booth  played  Richard,  or  a  part  of  it,  '*  in  imitation  of  Kean,"  to  prove 
that  his  own  idea  of  the  character  was  original. 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  43 

I  say  no  apology  is  wanting ;    but  a  slight  alteration  would 
improve  it  for  him  and  you — 

"  If  you*re  critical "  (you  mean),  "  you're  nothing." 

"  Wishing  you  may  experience  good  for  evil,  by  always  meet- 
ing the  lenity  that  learned  Dux  Stultorum*  lately  received, 
though  ill  deserving  it, 

"  I  remain  your  obedient, 

"J.  B.  Booth." 

From  Edinburgh,  Mr.  Booth  visited  the  principal  cities,  and 
was  everywhere  received  and  regarded  with  the  same  admira- 
tion and  delight  that  had  been  bestowed  on  Edmund  Kean. 
Indeed,  at  Brighton,  Birmingham,  Bristol  and  Bath,  he  proved 
more  attractive,  and  commanded  more  regard  than  that  celebrated 
actor. 

The  ensuing  season  he  returned  to  Covent  Garden. 

*  As  Mr.  Hazlitt  was  called  upon  by  J\ir.  Conway  to  apologize  for 
certain  remarks,  in  the  form  of  Dramatic  Criticism,  made  in  his  "  View  of 
the  English  Stage,"  a  few  years  previous,  which  he  publicly  did,  we 
presume  Mr.  Booth  came  in  for  his  share  of  abuse  from  that  eccentric 
indiyidual. 


44 


CHAPTER  V. 

Miss  O'Neill — Her  early  days— First  performances — Dihut  in  Dublin— In- 
cident during  the  performance  of  "  Timour  the  Tartar  '* — Her  various 
characters— 2>eZ>w^  in  London— Success  in  the  provinces — Her  perform- 
ance of  Monimia — Her  efforts  in  comedy — Her  retirement  from  the 
stage— Laughable  anecdote  of  Mr.  Coates — Miss  O'Neill's  efforts  as  an 
actress — Opinions  of  the  critics — Extraordinary  attraction  at  Covent  Gar- 
den— Production  of  the  "  Apostate  " — Mr.  Booth's  refusal  of  Pescara — 
Mr.  Macready's  assumption  of  the  character — His  success — Opinions  of 
the  critics  and  the  author  relative  to  his  merits  as  an  actor— His  manage- 
rial efforts. 

The  management  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  was  fortunate 
enough,  about  this  period,  to  secure  the  services  of  Miss  O'Neill, 
whose  successful  performances  of  Juliet  and  Jane  Shore,  at  the 
Dublin  Theatre,  had  met  with  unqualified  approbation. 

Indigence  and  obscurity  seem  to  have  marked  the  early  history 
of  the  majority  of  histrionic  performers,  and  this  beautiful  and 
accomplished  actress  was  not  an  exception.  She  was  reared  in 
poverty,  and  her  education  she  won  by  her  own  exertions,  having 
no  other  instruction  than  that  which  she  received  from  her  mo- 
ther. Genius,  however,  is  powerful  against  all  obstacles,  and 
seems  to  glow  the  brightest  when  chilled  by  penury. 

She  was  born  in  Drogheda  (Ireland),  on  the  twenty-eighth  day 
of  December,  1793,  and  a  respectable  tradesman  in  the  place 
mentions  that  he  has  "  often  seen  the  *  little  cratur '  running  hare- 
foot  about  the  streets.^' 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  45 

Her  first  performances  were  displayed  at  Belfast,  where,  hav- 
ing evinced  the  possession  of  extraordinary  talent,  she  was  en- 
gaged for  the  Dublin  Theatre,  and  made  her  first  appearance  as 
Widow  Cheerly,  in  Cherry's  comedy  of  "  The  Soldier's  Daugh- 
ter." 

The  season  previous,  the  theatrical  taste  being  in  rather  a  vi- 
tiated condition,  "  Timour  the  Tartar'^  was  produced,  and  Miss 
O'Neill  was  prevailed  upon  to  play  the  heroine  Zorilda. 

Among  the  theatrical  properties  was  an  admirably-shaped  figure 
of  a  colossal  elephant ;  in  each  leg  was  placed  a  boy,  whose 
movements  were  carefully  contrived  to  imitate  the  action  of  the 
real  animaL  Immediately  after  its  introduction  on  the  scene,  and 
while  Blue  Beard,  the  ungallant  slayer  of  female  beauty,  was 
fretting  and  ranting  on  his  back,  the  under- prompter  ran  into  the 
green-room,  seeking  for  the  manager,  with  the  utmost  consternation 
displayed  in  his  features ;  on  finding  him,  he  dolefully  exclaimed, 
"  Oh  Lord,  Sir !  the  right  leg  of  the  elephant  has  got  blind 
drunk,  and  is  boxing  on  the  stage  with  the  left,  which  is  fast 
asleep  all  the  while,  dreaming  about  nothing  at  all,  at  all,  and 
Mr.  Ahomilique  doesn't  know  what  to  do  with  the  beast."  "  Re- 
turn instantly,"  exclaimed  the  mimic  monarch,  "  discharge  the 
two  fore-legs  and  put  the  hind  ones  in  their  place." 

Miss  O'Neill's  second  effort,  in  which  she  was  most  successful, 
was  Portia,  in  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice,"  which  was  succeeded 
by  Oriana,m  Farquhar's  comedy  of  the  "Inconstant,"  Siud  BlancJie, 
in  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake."  On  the  performance  of  the  latter 
piece,  Fitz  James  was  represented  by  Mr.  Conway,  and  consider- 
ed one  of  his  happiest  efforts.  She  afterwards  assumed  various 
other  characters,  among  which  was  Beatrice,  in  "  Much  Ado 
about  Nothing  ;"  Volumnia,  in  "  Coriolanus ;"  Lady  Townley,  in 
the  "  Provoked  Husband^"  Mrs,  Haller,  in  the  "  Stranger;"  and 
Lady  Macbeth, 


46  THE   ACTOR  ; 


I 


On  the  sixth  of  October,  1814,  she  made  her  dehut  in  London/ 
as  Juliet,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,*  Conway  playing  Romeo,  to 
an  enthusiastic  audience  ;  and  it  is  mentioned  as  having  been  one 
of  the  most  successful  first  appearances  on  record. 

She  played  nightly  to  crowded  and  admiring  audiences,  and 
her  salary  was  progressively  raised,  until  it  amounted  to  thirty 
pounds  per  week. 

Her  success  at  the  provincial  theatres  was  equally  remarkable, 
and  at  Portsmouth,  she  was  in  receipt  of  seventy-five  pounds  per 
week  for  her  services,  when  the  elder  Kean,  who  was  not  at  all 
diffident  about  demanding  exorbitant  prices,  received  but  fifly. 

Her  range  of  characters  at  this  period  was  in  the  loftier  walks 
of  tragedy,  and  great  praise  was  awarded  for  her  powerful  acting 
in  Juliet,  Belvidera,  and  Jane  Shore. 

On  the  second  of  December,  1815,  Otway's  tragedy  of  the 
"  Orphan"  was  performed,  with  Conway  as  Poly  dor  e,  Charles 
Kemble  as  Castalio,  and  Miss  O'Neill  as  Monimia.  In  the  Thea- 
rical  Inquisitor,  we  find  the  following  notice  of  her  performance  : 

"  Miss  O'Neill,  as  Monimia,  fully  answered  our  most  sanguine 
anticipations,  and  we  shall  select  one  passage  of  her  performance, 
which,  alone,  afforded  a  most  delicious  treat  to  the  intelligent  ob- 
server. We  allude  to  that  in  which  she  discloses  her  marriage  to 
Folydore : 

'*  *  Oh !  I  am  his  wife : 
I  am  Castalio's  wife  !' 

was  delivered  in  a  manner  that  beggars  all  description.     To  deli- 

*  An  admirer  of  Miss  O'NeiU's  beauty  has  thus  vented  his  feelings  in 
rhyme  : — 

"  Ah  !  would  I  were  in  Conway's  place. 
Poor  Romeo's  part  enacting ; 
Yet  looking  but  in  Juliet's  face, 
I  should  forget  my  acting." 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  47 

neate  the  various  expressions  of  her  countenance  is  utterly  im- 
possible. She  presented  us  with  a  most  exquisitely  finished 
picture  of  a  sensitive  mind  in  one  of  the  most  distracting  situations. 
Madness  and  distress  were  portrayed  in  every  feature.  The 
emotion  of  her  frame,  the  anguish  of  her  look,  the  frenzy  of  her 
action,  depicted  the  various  conflicts  of  passion,  so  combined  at 
one  moment  as  to  cause  a  revulsion  in  the  human  frame  which 
overwhelmed  the  senses,  and  choked  the  utterance  in  a  whirlwind 
of  despair." 

In  1816  she  attempted  a  different  cast  of  characters,  and  her 
first  effort  as  Lady  Teazle,  in  the  "  School  for  Scandal,"  created 
as  much  excitement  and  enthusiasm  as  was  manifested  on  the 
night  of  her  dehut.  She  afterwards  performed  the  Widow  Cheerly, 
Mrs,  Oakley,  and  Lady  Townley,  but  the  manager,  finding  that  she 
did  not  prove  as  attractive  in  comedy  as  in  tragedy,  induced  her  to 
resume  the  representation  of  her  previous  characters,  to  which 
were  added  several  others,  that  won  for  her  the  most  enthusiastic 
praise.  Among  them,  that  of  Florinda,  in  the  "  Apostate,"  and 
the  heroine  in  "  Evadne,"  were  pronounced  faultless. 

In  the  year  1819,  she  married  W.  Becher,  M.  P.,  and  left  the 
profession  to  which  she  was  attached,  much  to  the  regret  of  all 
true  lovers  of  the  drama.  Unlike  the  majority  of  theatrical  per- 
formers, to  the  credit  of  her  taste,  her  retirement  was  made  with- 
out the  usual  farewell  from  the  stage. 

This  absurd  custom,  as  ridiculous  as  it  is  heartless,  though  so 
generally  adopted,  was  carried  to  a  laughable  extent  by  Kean, 
who  made  "  his  last  appearance  previous  to  his  retirement  from 
the  stage,"  and  after  having  expressed  his  gratitude*'  to  the  public, 

*  The  idea  of  an  actor  feeling  any  gratitude  to  the  public,  savors  very 
strongly  of  humbug.  If  the  audience  did  not  expect  to  obtain  the  worth  of 
their  money,  they  would  never  enter  the  theatre,  and  the  actors  would  be 
more  than  men  if  they  consented  to  play  without  being  paid  for  it. 

Let  a  performer  without  any  histrionic  merit  at  all,  appear,  and  though 


48  THE  actor; 

again  appeared  some  time  afterwards,  to  retire  a  second  time,  and 
renew  his  appeal  to  the  sympathies  of  the  audience. 

We  can  imagine  nothing  more  ridiculous  than  this,  unless  it  he 
an  incident  that  once  occurred  in  England,  at  the  Richmond  The- 
atre,  when  Mr.  Coates  was  representing  the  love-sick  Romeo. 
The  enthusiasm  of  the  audience  at  his  exquisite  acting  was  so 
great,  that  in  the  death  scene  many  voices  cried  out  encore  f  when, 
to  the  astonishment  and  delight  of  every  one,  Mr.  Coates,  taking 
the  word  in  its  literal  sense  (thinking  it  a  high  confipliment  to  his 
unrivalled  talents),  actually  died  over  again  !  !  ! 

Miss  O'Neill's  success  on  the  stage  was  most  extraordinary, 
having  realized  twelve  thousand  pounds  a  year  by  her  professional 
services,  the  whole  profits  of  which,  it  is  said,  were  distributed  by 
her  among  her  numerous  relations.  As  an  actress,  she  was  con- 
sidered the  greatest  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived.  An  excellent 
critic  has  said,  "  She  had  not  the  pathos,  nor  the  deep  insight 
into  the  human  heart  that  Miss  Kelly  possesses,  but  she  had 
more  dignity  and  a  higher  tone  of  acting. 

"  In  Jane  Shore,  BeJvidera,  Mrs,  Beverly,  and  Monimia,  she 
gave  her  auditors  no  time  to  think,  but  carried  them  with  her ; 
her  griefs  became  theirs,  and  reflection  was  lost  in  sympathy," 
and  another  writer,  in  speaking  of  her,  has  remarked  that  "  sad- 
ness rather  than  grandeur  was  her  forte  ;  youthful  passion,  rather 
than  maternal  affection.  Yet,  occasionally,  there  was  a  dignity 
about  her  which  approximated  to  the  majesty  of  Mrs.  Siddons." 
Another  of  her  admirers  has  written,  that  "  she  was  a  lovely, 

exemplary  as  a  saint  in  private  life,  and  possessed  of  as  many  children  as 
the  famous  John  Rogers,  and  poor  as  poverty  withal,  he  would  be  hissed 
from  the  stage,  the  audience,  of  course,  not  estimating  his  services  so  highly 
as  their  money.  Talent,  like  other  articles  of  merchandize,  sells  according 
to  its  value,  and  the  actor  feels  the  same  gratitude  to  the  audience  as  the 
shopkeeper  does  to  his  customer,  whose  object  it  is  to  get  his  goods  to  the 
best  possible  advantage. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  49 

ardent  creature,  with  whose  griefs  we  sympathized,  and  whose  sor- 
rows raised  our  pity ;"  and  a  third,  that  "  as  an  actress  she  had 
no  successor  worthy  of  comparison  with  her,  and,  at  her  secession 
from  the  stage,  may  be  said  to  have  departed  the  Juliet  of  the 
poet,  though  many  an  aspirant  has  since  become  the  Juliet  of  the 
stage." 

In  private  life,  her  conduct  was  exemplary,  and  "  without  re- 
proach," and  she  escaped  the  contamination  to  which  a  theatrical 
life  so  unavoidably  exposes  an  actress,  though  the  lures  of  titled 
and  wealthy  libertines  were  not  unemployed  to  tempt  her.  But 
we  return  to  Mr.  Booth. 

The  manager  of  Covent  Garden,  wishing  to  introduce  an  array 
of  talent  in  one  piece,  consisting  of  Mr.  Booth,  Mr.  Young,  Mjr. 
C.  Kemble,  and  Miss  O'Neill,  applied  to  Richard  Sheil,  to  write 
a  play  in  which  they  might  all  appear  in  conjunction.  The  tra- 
gedy of  the  "  Apostate"  was  produced,  accepted  by  Mr.  Harris, 
and  cast  as  follows : — 

Hemeya,         .         .         .         •  Mr,  C,  Kemble. 

Malec, "    Young, 

Pescara,  .         •         .         .  "    Booth, 

Florinda,         ....  Miss  O'Neill, 

After  four  rehearsals,  Mr.  Booth  declined  performing  the  part 
of  Pescara,  because  he  thought  Kemble's  and  Young's  characters 
were  superior ;  or  was  it  not,  rather,  that  he  desired  to  play  He- 
meyu,  for  the  purpose  of  making  love  to  the  beautiful  O'Neill  ? 

If  the  former  be  the  reason,  his  opinion  certainly  underwent  a 
most  extraordinary  change,  for  he  afterwards  played  it  with  such 
success,  that  he  made  it  entirely  his  own. 

The  manager,  annoyed  and  chagrined  by  this  whim  of  the 
tragedian,  was  compelled  to  submit,  and  there  being  no  one  else 

3 


50  THE  actor; 

connected  with  the  establishment,  in  his  opinion,  capable  of  play- 
ing the  part,  he  was  subjected  to  considerable  perplexity. 

The  stage  manager  suggested  Mr.  Macready,  who  undertook 
the  character  ;  but  the  piece  at  first  met  with  indifferent  success, 
that  actor  not  being  held  in  high  estimation  in  London,  although 
a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  provinces.  The  public,  how-  ^ 
ever,  discovered  much  merit  in  his  performance  of  Pescara,  and 
the  impression  that  he  made  raised  him  to  an  elevated  position  in 
the  histrionic  art.  From  this  time  forward,  he  stood  at  the  head 
of  his  profession,  though  considered  by  the.  critics  a  melo-drama- 
tic,  and  by  the  public  a  legitimate  actor. 

The  secret  of  Mr.  Macready's  success  lies  in  the  high  degree 
of  artistical  finish  that  marks  all  his  performances,  every  look 
and  action  being  the  result  of  careful  and  elaborate  study ;  added 
to  which,  is  the  magnificence  of  his  costumes,  which  not  even 
their  inaptitude  would  induce  him  to  cast  aside. 

His  voice  is  husky,  and  of\en  indistinct,  and  his  action,  studied 
and  artificial.  He  lacks  ease.  His  performances  are  destitute  of 
soul.  There  is  none  of  the  fire  and  spirit  of  genius  in  his  compo- 
sition, but  he  is  cold,  declamatory,  and  monotonous. 

One  of  his  biographers,  with  much  judgment,  has  said,  "  Mr* 
Macready  is  not  generally  successful  in  Shakspere.  Othello^ 
logo,  and  Jaques,  prove  our  assertions ;  and  his  Hamlet  is  not 
satisfactory.  *  *  ***:}; 

"  Like  Edmund  Kean,  he  succeeds  best  where  he  has  much  to 
imply,  little  to  enunciate :  for  he  ceases  to  act  when  he  begins  to 
declaim.  There  is  a  catching  of  the  breath,  somewhat  resembling 
a  burr  in  his  enunciation,  that  is  painful  to  the  hearer ;  his  low 
tones,  as  a  critic  has  somewhere  said  of  a  certain  singer's  diminu- 
endo notes,  are  so  exceedingly  confidential,  that  they  seldom 
penetrate  beyond  the  ear  of  the  orchestra*" 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND  THE   CURTAIN.  51 

Mr.  Macready,  however,  has  done  much  for  the  revival  of  the 
legitimate  drama  in  latter  years.  During  his  management,  he 
produced  a  number  of  Shakspere's*  plays  with  great  success, 
aud  various  other  pieces  which  have  maintained  their  place  upon 
the  stage.  Among  the  original  characters  which  he  has  enacted, 
are  Ludovico,  in  "  Evadne  ;"  Gambia,  in  the  "  Slave  ;"  Rob  Boy, 
Virginius,  Caius  Gracchus,  and  William  Tell,  parts  which  we 
consider  better  adapted  to  his  style  of  acting  than  those  of  Shak- 
spere. 

*  It  is  mentioned  as  a  curious  fact,  that  John  Philip  KemblCj  who  was 
celebrated  for  his  efforts  in  producing  Shakspere's  plays  in  a  classic  style 
upon  the  stage,  always  introduced  the  modern  composition  of  "  See  the 
Conquering  Hero  comes,"  on  the  triumphant  entrance  of  Coriolanus,  after 
the  defeat  of  the  Volscii.  Its  appropriateness  may  well  be  questioned,  as 
Coriolanus  was  sleeping  with  his  mother  earth  some  centuries  before  the 
composer  was  born. 


52 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Revival  of  **  King  Lear"  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre—Cast  of  Characters- 
Booth's  Lear — Tate's  Alteration— Addison's  opinion  of  the  Character— 
Kemble's  Edgar — Macready's  Edmund — Fawcett's  Kent — Miss  Booth's 
Cordelia — The  "  Lear  of  Private  Life"  at  the  Cobourg — Engagement  of 
Booth — His  success  as  Fitzharden — Mr.  Booth's  Position — Occasional 
Reflections—"  King  Lear"  at  Drury  Lane— Kean's  exorbitant  Demands— 
His  success  in  Lear — Secession  of  Booth  from  Covent  Garden  and  En- 
gagement at  the  Cobourg— Production  of  "  Horatii  and  Curiatii" — Its 
marvellous  Success — Booth's  imitation  of  Kean — His  Engagement  at  the 
East  London  Theatre — Visit  to  Amsterdam — His  Engagement  and  sudden 
Disappearance — "Dutch"  without  a  Master — His  performance  of  Macbeth 
— Approbation  of  the  Prince  of  Orange — His  performance  of  lago — Re- 
appearance with  Kean  at  Drury  Lane — Return  to  the  Cobourg — Visit  to 
Madeira— His  favorite  "  Peacock" — Departure  for  America. 

The  tragedy  of  "  King  Lear"  had  not  been  represented  for  many 
years  in  England,  its  performance  having  been  prohibited  by  the 
Lord  Chamberlain,  who  had  discovered  some  affinity  or  resem- 
blance between  the  madness  of  Shakspere's  monarch  and  that  of 
George  the  Third,  who,  for  a  perio4  of  ten  years,  was  a  con- 
firmed maniac. 

His  death  removed  the  restriction  that  had  been  issued,  and  the 
play  was  immediately  put  into  preparation  at  both  the  large 
Theatres.  It  was  represented,  at  Covent  Garden,  on  the  13th 
of  April,  1820,  with  the  following  powerful  cast  of  characters  : — 


OB,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN. 


King  Lear, 

.     Mr.  Booth. 

Edgar, 

"    C.  Kemhle 

Edmund,    .         . 

"    Macready. 

Kent, 

"    Fawcett. 

Cordelia,    . 

.     Miss  Booth. 

Such  'a  combination  of  talent  in  one  of  Shakspere's  master 
efforts,  of  course,  drew  immense  houses. 

Mr.  Booth's  Lear  proved  to  be  one  of  the  proudest  efforts  of  his 
genius.  His  execution  of  this  character  was  transcendantly 
beautiful.  It  requires  no  ordinary  mind  to  properly  conceive  it. 
Shakspere  himself  seems  to  have  been  prodigal  of  his  genius  in 
painting  the  aged  king.  ?* 

The  scene  in  which  he  is  abandoned  and  turned  out  to  "  bide 
the  pelting  of  the  pitiless  storm,"  is  one  of  terrific  grandeur. 
The  dethroned  monarch,  "  more  sinned  against  than  sinning,"  in 
his  madness,  invoking  the  fury  of  the  elements,  as  drawn  by 
Shakspere,  presents  a  picture  almost,  if  not  entirely,  unequalled 
in  dramatic  composition,  which  no  one  but  the  "poet  of  all  time" 
could  have  produced. 

How  admirably  Booth  represented  this  scene,  no  one  who  ever 
witnessed  him  can  forget,  and  his  recitation  of  the  following 
passages  amidst  the  storm  and  darkness,  was  almost  sublime  : 

"  Blow,  wind,  and  crack  your  cheeks  !  rage  !  blow  ! 
You  cataracts  and  hurricanoes,  spout 
'Till  you  have  drenchM  our  steeples  ! 
You  sulph'rous  and  thought-executing  fires. 
Vaunt  couriers  to  oak-cleaving  thunder-bolts, 
Singe  my  white  head  !" 


And  again,  when  Goneril  urges  him  to  lessen  his  attendants, 
how  truthful  was  the  impetuous  rage  that  he  manifested  :— . 


S4  THE  actor; 

**  Darkness  and  devils  ! 
Saddle  my  horses,  call  my  train  together. 
Degenerate  viper  !  I'll  not  stay  with  thee." 

But  how  shall  we  describe  the  awful  impressiveness  of  the 
curse  on  Goneril  at  the  close  of  the  first  act,  which  he  uttered 
with  such  powerful  effect  ? 

It  would  be  impossible,  however,  without  occupying  more 
space  than  would  be  compatible  with  the  intention  of  the  author 
of  this  work,  to  particularize  the  many  and  varied  beauties  that 
abounded  in  his  representation  of  Lear. 

Booth  conceived  and  executed  the  character  with  admirable 
judgment.  He  made  him  a  weak  and  fond  old  man,  hasty  and 
impetuous  in  his  feelings,  as  quick  in  his  susceptibility  to  offence 
as  he  was  eager  and  ardent  in  his  attachments.  Urged  by  the 
ingratitude  of  his  daughters,  he  goes  forth,  blending  together  the 
most  incongruous  associations,  but  never  forgetting  for  an  instant, 
the  disobedience  of  his  children,  every  circumstance  calling  it  to 
his  remembrance. 

The  interviews  with  Edgar  were  painfully  natural,  and  wrought 
to  an  intensity  worthy  of  the  poet  who  created  them.  Indeed,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  particularize  any  part  of  the  performance, 
where  Booth  was  unequal  to  the  character. 

It  was  a  subject  of  regret  that  he  adopted  the  alterations*  of 

*  The  "  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous,"  was  never  a  shorter 
one,  than  in  Tate's  alteration  of  ITing  Lear.  With  the  most  consummate 
conceit  of  his  ability,  to  improve  upon  the  great  poet  of  all  nature,  he  has 
made  the  injured  King,  "  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches,"  and  stuck  upon 
he  royal  robes  of  majesty,  the  ragged  patchwork  of  poverty,  making  him, 
after  all,  but  a  mountebank  that  merely  sports  with  our  sympathies ;  still 
worse,  Cordelia  is  converted  into  a  strolling  love-sick  damsel,  who  makes 
iQVe  in  a  storm,  and  indeed  "  wastes  her  sweetness  on  the  desert  air." 

"  And  my  poor  fool  is  hanged,"  cries  the  expiring  Lear  of  Shakspercy 
but  had  he  known  that  the  mighty  genius  of  J\*ahum  Tate  could  have 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  55 

Tate,  who  with  presumptive  hand  boldly  stripped  the  play  of 
Lear's  death,  a  subject  which  in  the  hands  of  such  an  actor  as 
Booth,  might  have  been  rendered  one  of  the  most  interesting 
features  of  the  piece. 

Addison,  in  one  of  his  essays  in  the  Spectator,  says: — "  King 
Lear  is  an  admirable  tragedy  as  Shakspere  wrote  it ;  but  as  it 
is  reformed,  according  to  the  chimerical  notion  of  poetic  justice, 
in  my  opinion,  it  has  lost  half  its  beauty." 

After  Lear's  misfortunes — at  his  mature  age — with  mind  and 
body  worn  out,  the  picture  of  his  death  and  that  of  Cordelia,  as 
drawn  by  Shakspere,  is  sublimely  touching. 

Why  the  Shaksperian  Booth  should  have  adopted  the  prepos- 
terous text  of  Tate,  who  restores  him  to  health  and  reason,  is  one 
of  those  problems  which  we  have  never  been  able  to  satisfactorily 
solve. 

Of  Mr.  Charles  Kemble's  Edgar y  we  cannot  perhaps  do  better 
than  quote  the  remarks  of  a  judicious  critic  :— 

"  Mr.  C.  Kemble  was  perfect  in  Edgar.  The  assumed  maniac, 
like  Caliban,  is  an  imaginary  being  wholly  out  of  nature,  and 
therefore  not  subject  to  dramatic  rules.  As  Shakspere  trusted 
to  his  imagination  to  conceive,  so  must  the  actor  to  represent,  this 
singularly  wild  and  romantic  creation  of  poetic  fancy.  Mr. 
Charles  Kemble's  appearance  was  highly  picturesque.  He  was 
a  figure  that  Salvator  Rosa  would  have  delighted  to  contemplate." 

Edmund  found  an  admirable  representative  in  Mr.  Macready, 
whose  artistical  and  finished  style  of  execution  is  allowed  even  by 
his  enemies. 

Mr.  Fawcett's  performance  of  Kent  was  all  that  could  be  im- 

restored  his  own  broken  heart  to  him,  whole  again,  and  returned  him  his 
lost  kingdom,  he  would  probably  have  asked  for  his  "fool"  again,  even 
though  he  had  been  hanged ;  but  Mr.  Tate,  deeming  one  fool  sufficient,  has 
presented  himself  in  that  character,  for  the  admiration  of  posterity. 


56  THE  actor; 

agined  or  desired  from  an  actor,  who,  in  a  certain  line  of  characters, 
was  without  an  equal.  An  astute  critic,  speaking  of  his  acting 
said,  that  "  he  is  serious  without  being  pompous,  and  his  comic 
touches  go  sometimes  more  to  the  heart  than  the  most  studied 
efforts  of  the  tragic  delineator." 

Of  Miss  Booth's  Cordelia^  we  find  the  most  extravagant  notices 
of  her  performance.  Her  figure  was  small,  but  very  well  formed  ; 
and  to  adopt  the  words  of  one  of  her  admirers,  "  her  face  (if  we 
may  use  the  expression)  full  of  tongues.  All  her  features  were 
lit  up  with  expression,  and  conveyed  her  thoughts  before  her 
tongue  could  utter  them." 

"  King  Lear"  was  represented  three  nights  a  week,  for  several 
successive  weeks. 

The  minor  theatres,  at  that  period,  having  been  forbidden  to 
play  the  regular  drama,  and  the  inhabitants  of  London  and  its 
purlieus  being  "  Lear  mad^^^  Mr.  Glossop,  of  the  Cobourg  Theatre, 
produced  a  melo-drama,  some  of  the  incidents  of  which  resembled 
those  of  *'  King  Lear."  The  piece  was  founded  on  Mrs.  Opie's 
admirable  tale  of  "  Father  and  Daughter,"  and  called  the  "  Lear 
of  Private  Life." 

Mr.  Glossop  also  secured  the  services  of  Booth,  who  played 
Fitzharden  three  nights  a  week,  being,  in  theatrical  parlance,  the 
"off  nights"  of  his  engagement  at  Covent  Garden,  producing  the 
same  sensation  on  one  side  of  the  Thames,  in  that  character,  that 
he  did  in  Shakspere's  Lear  on  the  other. 

His  performance  of  Fitzharden  is  spoken  of  as  being  one  of 
the  finest  efforts  of  his  genius,  embodying,  as  it  did,  those  pecu- 
liar traits  of  feeling  and  mental  ability,  for  which  he  was 
celebrated. 

For  weeks,  the  Cobourg  was  filled  with  large  and  enthusiastic 
audiences,  whose  tears  were  an  acknowledgment  of  the  power  of 
this  master  of  the  passions,  while  on  alternate  nights,  the  boxes 


OR.  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  57 

of  Covent  Garden  were  lined  with  the  beauty  and  fashion  of 
London. 

Mr.  Booth  had  now  reached  the  highest  pinnacle  of  fame,  and 
bore  his  "  blushing  honors  thick  upon  him."  With  a  face  strik- 
ingly handsome,  every  feature  of  which  was  illuminated  with  in- 
tellectual beauty — with  a  natural  genius  and  aptitude  for  his  art 
— with  a  voice  susceptible  of  every  change  of  modulation,  and 
which  never  failed  him— with  a  constitution  of  herculean  strength, 
he  entered  upon  a  career  which  promised  nothing  but  success. 
The  ardent  aspirations  of  youthful  ambition  seemed  about  to  be 
realized,  and  fame  and  fortune  were  at  his  feet ;  but  after  gaining 
the  steep  ascent  upon  which  he  had  fixed  his  longing  eye,  lighted 
with  the  beams  of  genius  and  of  hope,  like  Cooke  and  Kean,  he 
has  lived  to  see  his  star  obscured  by  the  mists  of  error,  with 
"  shadows,  clouds  and  darkness  "  resting  upon  it. 

What  he  might  have  been  is  a  problem  of  easy  solution,  when 
we  behold  him  "  with  all  his  imperfections  on  his  head,''  even 
now,  the  most  truthful  representative  of  Shakspere  that  graces 
the  stage.  What  might  he  not  have  been,  had  time  mellowed 
instead  of  blighting  the  fruit  of  that  transcendant  genius,  which 
promised  such  a  glorious  harvest  ?  Alas  !  instead  of  being  like 
some  proud  Grecian  Temple,  grand  in  its  chaste  simplicity,  win- 
ning the  admiring  gaze  of  all  beholders,  we  find  him  but  a 
splendid  ruin,  whose  glory  lies  but  in  the  associations  which  it 
engenders. 

On  the  24th  of  April,  King  Lear  was  produced  at  Drury  Lane 
with  more  splendor  and  more  regard  to  costume  and  scenery, 
Mr.  Kean  enacting  Lear ;  Mr.  Rae,  Edgar ;  Mr.  Hamblin, 
Edmund;  Mr.  Dowton,  Kent;  and  Mrs.  W.  West,  Cordelia. 
Both  houses  were  nightly  crowded  to  excess. 

Mr.  Kean,  conscious  of  his  attractive  powers,  and  availing 
himself  of  the  excitement,  demanded  and  received  fifty  pounds 
per  night,  a  most  exorbitant  sum  for  the  services  of  any  actor  in 

3* 


58  THE  actor;  »  ^ 

1 

those  days,  if  not  in  ours.  He  likewise  required  a  stipulation 
that  his  name  should  always  appear  in  large  letters,  in  the  bills 
announcing  the  performance,  which,  en  fassant,  was  the  first  in- 
troduction of  that  custom  in  London  -,  also,  that  no  actor  should 
be  allowed  to  enact  any  part  in  his  list  of  characters.  He  played 
Lear  consecutive  nights  during  a  period  of  six  weeks,  to  houses 
enormously  crowded. 

Soon  after  the  production  of  "  King  Lear,"  Booth  left  Covent 
Garden  and  enlisted  with  Mr.  Glossop,  at  the  Cobourg,  where  the 
play  of  the  Roman  Father  altered  to  "  Horatii  and  Curiatii,"  was 
produced  in  a  style  of  gorgeous  and  unequalled  magnificence  ; 
the  scenery  and  dresses  surpassing  any  previous  production  at 
the  London  theatres. 

The  scenic  effect  was  of  the  most  imposing  description,  and 
the  costumes,  decorations,  and  properties,  were  prepared  without 
regard  to  expense,  and  with  a  strict  adherence  to  historical  truth. 

This  attraction,  added  to  Booth's  personation  of  the  Roman 
Father^  which  he  represented  in  the  most  effective  manner,  drew 
nightly  crowded  houses,  until  it  had  had  an  unprecedented  run  of 
sixty  nights,  resuscitating  the  treasury  of  the  theatre  several 
thousand  pounds. 

The  soul  and  pathos  that  Booth  threw  into  this  part  commanded 
universal  admiration,  and  on  each  succeeding  night  the  interest 
rather  augmented  than  diminished. 

After  the  withdrawal  of  '•'  Horatii  and  Curiatii "  Booth  con. 
tinned  to  play  three  nights  a  week.  On  the  evening  of  his 
benefit,  here  and  elsewhere,  he  invariably  enacted  Richard  the 
Third  and  Jerry  Sneak  in  the  "  Mayor  of  Garratt,"  and  between 
the  performance  of  the  tragedy  and  farce,  recited  the  opening 
soliloquy  of  the  former : — 

"  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent/'  &c., 

in  imitation  of  Edmund  Kean,  and  aflerwards,  according  to  his 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  59 

own  method,  showing  the  difference  in  their  peculiar  styles  of 
acting — thus  rebutting  the  charge  of  being  a  copyist. 

The  success  which  followed  the  performances  of  Booth  at  the 
Cobourg,  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  proprietors  of  the  Patent 
theatres,  and  consequently  an  attempt  was  made  to  suppress  the 
Minor  Drama,  by  bringing  suits  against  the  manager  of  the  Co- 
bourg. It  was  contended  that  "  Richard  the  Third,"  as  per- 
formed at  Mr.  Glossop's  establishment,  was  no  melo-drama,  but 
a  regular  tragedy. 

From  a  letter  of  the  Manager  to  the  editor  of  a  theatrical  journal, 
we  quote  the  following: — 

"  The  melo^dramatizing  and  performing  of  '  Richard  the 
Third,'  at  the  Cobourg,  for  the  purpose  of  displaying  the  great 
talents  of  Mr.  Booth,  is,  it  seems,  the  offence  that  has  thus  sud- 
denly drawn  down  the  hostility  of  the  major  theatres.  For  the 
doing  this  I  had  good  precedent.  The  present  lessee  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  at  the  time  he  rented  the  Surrey  Theatre,  melo- 
dramatized  both  '  Richard  the  Third '  and  ^  Macbeth,'  as  well 
as  many  other  pieces  of  the  Royal  Theatres.  *  Richard  the 
Third '  was  melo-dramatized  expressly  for  the  Cobourg  Theatre, 
with  additional  musical  scenes,  and  an  immense  reduction  of 
matter,  by  Mr.  Moncrief,  who  is  regularly  engaged  at  the  Co- 
bourg Theatre  to  arrange  and  adapt  all  such  pieces  as  may  be 
produced  there.  I  have  no  wish  to  persist  in  availing  myself  of 
any  materiel  belonging  to  the  Royal  Theatres,  nor  should  I  have 
done  so  in  the  present  legal  instance,  had  it  not  been  with  a  view 
to  gratify  the  public  by  as  complete  a  display  of  Mr.  Booth's 
fine  talents  in  Richard  as  the  nature  of  my  license  permitted. 
I  willingly  withdraw  it  if  they  consider  its  performance  an  injury 
to  them ;  but  when  they  modestly  ask  me  late  on  Saturday  night, 
to  withdraw  a  new  piece  announced  for  representation  on  the 
succeeding  Monday,  a  piece  written  expressly  for  my  tiisatjre, 


60  THE    ACTOR  ! 


and  in  the  production  of  which  I  have  expended  a  sum  amouni 
ing  to  nearly  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  as  in  the  case  of  "  Horatil 
and  Curiatii/  the  splendid  success  of  which  has  redoubled  their 
efforts,  I  should  be  wanting  in  every  proper  feeling  of  duty  to 
Hiyself,  should  be  guilty  of  a  breach  of  faith  to  the  public,  if  I 
did  not  manfully  resist  so  unreasonable  a  demand. 

"J.  Glossop." 

Booth  left  the  Cobourg,  and  commenced  an  engagement  at  the 
East  London  Theatre,  the  spot  where  the  immortal  Garrick  first 
made  his  debut.  Here  he  went  through  a  regular  routine  of 
Shaksperian  characters,  with  the  same  continued  success. 

Thence  he  proceeded  to  the  Amsterdam  Theatre,  then  under 
the  management  of  Mr.  Smithson,  where  we  find  the  well-known 
Tom  Flynn,  of  "  Temperance"  notoriety,  Fitzwilliams,  Hield, 
Miss  Emery,  the  celebrated  Miss  Smithson,  and  Mr.  S.  Chapman, 
the  famous  melo-dramatic  actor,  who  died  in  Philadelphia,  a  few 
years  since. 

Among  the  Dutch,  Mr.  Booth  displayed  some  of  those  peculiar- 
ities by  whfch  he  is  characterized.  The  then  Prince  of  Orange 
(now  King)  commanded  the  play  of  Macbeth  to  be  performed,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  witnessing  Mr.  Booth  in  that  character. 
When  the  night  of  performance  arrived,  however,  the  tragedian 
did  not  appear,  nor  could  his  whereabouts  be  ascertained  for  seve- 
ral days.  -M 
The  manager  applied  to  Flynn,  to  find  his  friend,  they  being  "^ 
known  at  this  period  as  *'  the  inseparables,''^  from  the  fact  of  their 
being  so  much  in  each  other's  company,  but  even  he  was  at  a  loss 
where  to  look  for  him.  The  general  impression  was,  that  he  had 
fallen  into  the  canal,  or  met  with  some  other  accident.  Flynn^ 
however,  finally  discovered  his  retreat. 

While  playing  billiards  one  afternoon,  he  heard,  or  thought  he 
hear^  the  voice  of  Booth  from  an  adjoining  room.     He  knocked, 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  61 

gained  admission,  and  found  ihe  tragedian  busily  engaged  in  stu- 
dying Dutch,  under  the  tuition  of  two  interesting  demoiselles, 

Flynn  recounted  all  the  disappointments  that  had  been  occa- 
sioned, and  the  consequences  that  had  ensued.  Booth  "  regretted 
his  non-appearance ;"  said  he  had  been  busily  engaged  in  en- 
deavoring to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  vernacular  of  the  country ; 
that  he  intended  to  exculpate  himself  from  the  displeasure  of  his 
royal  highness,  and  for  the  interest  that  he  had  manifested,  thank 
him  in  his  own  language,  in  which  he  had  perfected  himself  in  a 
method  different  from  that  taught  in  "  Dutch  without  a  Master.'' 

He  however  appeared  in  Macbeth,  which  he  played  with  admi- 
rable skill  and  judgment. 

Seldom  as  Mr.  Booth  enacts  this  character,  we  have  regarded 
it  as  one  of  his  happiest  efforts.  Unlike  Richard,  lago,  and  Sir 
Giles  Overreach,  there  is  a  fine  current  of  humanity  running 
through  the  early  part  of  the  character,  which  is  not  entirely  lost 
in  his  unfortunate  abandonment  of  virtue  for  a  career  of  crime. 

The  doubt,  the  perplexity,  the  irresolution  of  Macbeth,  were 
admirably  depicted  by  Mr.  Booth,  and  his  touching  lamentations 
over  the  loss  of  "  honor,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends,"  were 
given  with  a  pathos  and  truth  that  found  a  response  in  every 
heart.  Equally  correct  was  the  display  of  Macbeth's  conflicting 
emotions  of  lofty  ambition  and  treacherous  disloyalty,  and  the 
triumph  of  his  art  was  manifested  in  the  scene  following  the  mur- 
der of  Duncan.  Considering  it  altogether,  it  was  one  of  the  finest 
efforts  of  his  genius. 

His  performance  excited  the  delight  and  approbation  of  the 
people  of  Amsterdam,  and  particularly  of  the  Prince,  who  was  so 
much  pleased  with  it,  that  he  commanded  its  representation  seve- 
ral times.  He  afterwards  appeared  as  Hamlet,  Sir  Giles  Over- 
reach, Richard  the  Third,  and  lago. 

His  performance  of  the  latter  character  was  repeated  on  three 


62  THE   ACTOR  ; 

occasions,  during  his  engagement,  at  the  request  of  the  Prince, 
Mr.  S.  Chapman,  who  was  stage-manager,  playing  Othello. 

His  logo  has  always  been  considered  by  critics  a  master-effort. 
Booth  made  him  almost  a  demi-devil,  but  at  the  same  time  con- 
tinually exhibited  the  motives  that  led  him  to  revenge.  The 
subtle  poison  that  he  pours  into  the  ears  of  Othello,  until  the  Moor 
becomes  almost  frantic  with  jealousy  ;  the  dark  hints  and  inuen- 
dos  of  Desdemona's  inconstancy ;  his  change  of  manner,  accord- 
ing to  the  person  with  whom  he  is  conversing  (for  it  is  one  thing 
with  Othello,  and  another  with  Roderigo),  were  all  rendered  in  a 
style  peculiarly  his  own.  His  chaste  and  beautiful  reading  of 
the  part,  and  his  appropriate  and  effective  gesticulation,  were 
equally  admired. 

From  Amsterdam,  he  returned  to  the  Cobourg,  at  which  place  he 
repeated  his  former  characters,  with  his  accustomed  success.  It 
was  here,  also,  that  he  married  the  beautiful  Miss  Holmes,  his 
present  wife. 

In  the  same  year,  1820,  he  was  engaged  at  Drury  Lane,  and 
on  the  fifteenth  of  August  appeared  as  Richmond  to  Kean's  Rich- 
ard, it  being  among  the  last  performances  of  the  latter  actor,  pre- 
vious to  his  departure  for  America.  Mr.  Booth  afterwards  ap- 
peared as  logo  to  Kean's  Othello,  and  Edgar  to  Kean's  Lear,  with 
great  success. 

In  November,  Booth  played  a  variety  of  characters  on  the  same 
boards,  and  among  others.  King  Lear  to  Mr.  Cooper's  Edgar,  and 
Michael  Ducas  to  Cooper's  Lothaire,  in  ''  Adelgitha." 

He  next  visited  the  Island  of  Madeira,  where  he  remained 
several  weeks.  It  was  at  this  period  that  he  contemplated  a 
voyage  to  the  United  States,  little  supposing  that  he  would  after- 
wards make  his  residence  in  the  New  World. 

At  this  place,  he  became  very  much  attached  to  a  horse,  which 
he  afterwards  purchased,  and  for  which  he  manifested  an  almost 
parental  anxiety. 


OR,   A    PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  63 

As  his  favorite  "  Peacock  "  may  be  forgotten  amidst  the  varied 
incidents  and  adventures  that  we  shall  chronicle,  we  will  here  re- 
mark, that  after  remaining  in  the  service  of  his  master,  until  he 
had  attained  the  age  of  thirty,  death  closed  his  career,  to  the  un- 
feigned sorrow  of  his  owner. 

Having  finally  resolved  to  visit  America,  he  took  passage  for 
"  Peacock,"  himself  and  wife,  and  they  arrived  and  were  safely 
landed  at  Norfolk,  in  Virginia. 


64 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Booth's  introduction  to  Gilfert — First  appearance  in  America — His  success 
in  Richard — Opinions  of  the  critics — Excitement  among  the  play-goers— 
Engagement  at  the  Park  Theatre — Opinions  of  the  New  York  press — 
First  benefit  at  the  Park — Kemble's,  Macready*s  and  Charles  Kean's 
Hamlet — Booth's  performance  of  the  character — Booth  in  comedy— His 
Jerry  Sneak — Incidents  at  his  benefit — His  address  to  the  audience — 
Visit  to  various  places — Departure  for  England. 

When  Booth  first  arrived  in  this  country,  he  found  a  company 
playing  at  Richmond,  under  the  management  of  the  eccentric 
Charles  Gilfert,  once  manager  of  the  Bowery  Theatre  in  New 
York,  on  whom  he  called,  introducing  himself. 

An  engagement  was  immediately  effected,  and  he  opened  on 
the  13th  of  July,  1821,  in  his  favorite  character  of  Richard  the 
Third,  to  a  house  crammed  from  pit  to  gallery. 

During  the  first  three  acts  of  the  play,  so  tame  was  his  per- 
formance, that  Gilfert  was  in  doubt  whether  he  had  not  been  the 
victim  of  an  impostor,  who  had  assumed  the  name  of  Booth. 
This,  however,  was  the  effect  of  illness,  produced  by  his  sea 
voyage,  for  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  acts,  "  Richard  "  was  "  himself 
again,"  and  never  did  this  gifted  genius  represent  the  "  crook'd 
back  tyrant "  with  more  satisfaction  to  an  audience.  The  eccen- 
tric manager  was  in  ecstasies,  the  audience  electrified,  and  the 
Richmondites  enthusiastic  in  his  praise. 

The  critics  lauded  his  performance  without  measure.     "  His 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND    THE    CURTAIN.  65 

manner  of  looking  the  character,"  says  a  writer  of  that  day, 
"  very  early  caught  and  fixed  attention,  and  was  eloquently  ex- 
pressive. My  little  daughter,  who  sat  beside  me,  whispered, 
*  Papa,  could  you  see  the  two  spiders  he  was  looking  at  on  the 
floor  V  '  No,  my  dear,  but  I  thought  I  felt  them  crawl,  when  he 
put  his  hand  to  his  bosom  to  tear  them  off.'  " 

Those  who  have  seen  Booth's  Richard  will  recollect  the  scene 
referred  to,  in  which  he  is  alluding  to  the  two  princes,  in  liis  in- 
terview with  Buckingham : — 

"  I  tell  Ihee,  coz,  Pve  lately  had  two  spiders 
Crawling  upon  my  startled  hopes — 

Now,  though  thy  friendly  hand  has  brushed  *em  from  me. 
Yet,  still  they  crawl  offensive  to  my  eyes — 
I  would  have  some  kind  friend  to  tread  upon  'em  : 
I  would  be  king,  my  cousin." 

Another  critic,  in  the  Richmond  Enquirer,  says,  "  Gentlemen 
who  have  seen  Cooke  in  this  part  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce 
Booth  superior  to  him,  and  others  who  have  lately  seen  Kean  in 
the  same  character,  aver  that  in  some  of  the  scenes  he  is  equal, 
and  in  others,  the  most  trying  of  the  play,  superior  to  that  cele- 
brated actor.  His  manner  is  chaste  and  natural,  what  it  should 
be  in  the  situation  in  which  he  is  supposed  to  be  placed." 

The  excitement  which  Booth  had  produced  in  England,  of 
course  extended  to  America.  This,  added  to  that  created  in 
Richmond  by  his  performance,  engendered  an  anxious  desire  to 
see  him,  throughout  the  country.  Letters  from  managers  flowed 
in  from  all  quarters,  and  his  star  was  still  in  the  ascendant. 

For  weeks  he  played  nightly  in  Richmond,  to  crowded  and  ad- 
miring audiences,  and  he  was  and  is  to  this  day,  a  magnet  of 
attraction  in  that  city. 

After  this  very  successful  engagement  he  arrived  in  the  city  of 
New  York  on  the  2d  of  October,  and  in  twenty-four  hours  after, 


66  THE   ACTOR  ;     .  1 

the  manager  of  the  Park  Theatre  had  effected  an  arrangement, 
and  announced  him  to  play  Richard  on  the  5th. 

The  papers  of  that  day  are  warmly  eulogistic  of  his  perform- 
ances, and  though  Kean,  Cooper,  and  a  host  of  others  had  just 
been  delighting  the  audiences  in  the  same  characters,  he  drew 
crowded  houses  and  warm  expressions  of  admiration. 

Among  numerous  allusions  to  his  debut  by  the  daily  press,  we 
extract  the  following  : — 

"  The  notoriety  of  Mr.  Booth  in  London,  and  from  the  various 
reports  of  our  friends  who  had  seen  him  there,  had  greatly  ex- 
cited public  curiosity.  In  consequence,  a  full  and  fashionable 
house  assembled  at  an  early  hour  on  Friday  evening,  to  witness 
his  debut, 

"  The  first  scene  of  the  play,  though  respectably  supported,  was 
uninteresting  from  the  anxiety  all  felt  for  the  appearance  of  the 
young  candidate  for  histrionic  fame.  At  length  he  appeared,  and 
was  welcomed  with  three  long,  distinct  rounds  of  applause,  which 
must  have  been  very  gratifying  to  the  young  actor,  and  who,  we 
could  perceive,  was  sensibly  affected. 

"  In  the  earlier  scenes  Mr.  B.  was  evidently  embarrassed ;  in 
the  course  of  the  second  act  he  began  to  recover,  and  in  the  third 
he  evidently  gained  upon  the  good  opinion  of  the  audience ;  in 
the  fourth  he  produced  a  great  impression  in  his  favor,  but  in  the 
fifth  act,  while  he  astonished,  he  confirmed  the  high  opinion  many- 
had  expressed  of  his  talents  as  an  actor. 

*^  We  are  well  aware  it  is  not  very  difficult  to  produce  effect  in 
most  of  Shakspere's  plays,  because  the  characters  are  relieved 
with  such  prominence  and  vigor,  that  the  hand  cannot  be  laid 
upon  them  without  bearing  away  some  kind  of  impression ;  but 
to  transmit  them  into  full  and  accurate  beauty  to  the  eye,  to 
transmit  the  image  from  the  volume  in  its  splendor  to  the  stage; 
to  summon  up  before  us  in  actual,  tangible  existence  the  concep- 


\ 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  67 

tions  which  have  crowned  our  silent  study,  with  richness  and 
beauty,  with  the  fondness  of  love — the  fierceness  of  headlong 
ambition,  and  the  fluctuations  of  sublime  spirits  distracted  by 
jealousy,  superstition  and  revenge,  require  a  faculty  no  teaching, 
no  diligence  can  give.     It  must  he  horn  with  the  actor, 

"  Mr.  Booth  is  a.  very  young  man,  we  had  almost  said  a  lad ; 
when  we  reflect  upon  his  youth  and  the  eflTect  produced  by  his 
acting,  we  cannot  withhold  from  him  our  highest  praise. 

"  The  first  scene  in  which  he  evidently  made  a  favorable  im- 
pression, was  the  wooing  scene  with  Lady  Anne.  In  this,  Mr. 
Kean  had  justly  obtained  great  applause.  Mr.  B.  played  it  as 
well  as  we  ever  saw  it  done,  and  the  mode  differed  from  any 
actor  we  have  seen.  In  the  course  of  the  third  act,  Mr.  B.  un- 
fortunately became  hoarse,  but  in  the  tent  scene,  he  showed  much 
originality :  rising  from  the  sofa,  he  dashed  to  the  bottom  of  the 
stage,  and  with  an  attitude  and  expression  of  countenance  we 
cannot  describe,  and  will  not  forget,  but  which  was  neither  that 
of  Cooke,  Cooper,  Kean,  or  Wallack.  He  made  an  extraordinary 
and  most  sensible  impression  on  the  audience.  There  was  at 
first  a  pause,  which  suddenly  burst  forth  in  a  long  and  rapturous 
applause,  intermixed  with  loud  expressions  of  approbation.  In 
the  contest  with  Richmond,  and  the  dying  scene,  he  was  loudly 
applauded,  and  fell  amidst  the  cries  of  *  bravo,  bravo,'  from  all 
parts  of  the  house.  In  this  last  scene,  no  actor  could  have  im- 
parted more  gratification  which  depended  wholly  on  attitude, 
action,  and  '  Texpression  de  visage ;'  in  short,  stage  effect. 

"  Upon  the  whole,  we  consider  Mr.  B.  an  astonishing  young 
man,  that  he  has  fine  talents  for  the  stage,  which,  under  the 
directions  of  his  judgment  (of  which  we  have  formed  a  very 
favorable  opinion),  and  with  the  aid  of  close  study  and  practice, 
will  in  a  few  years  elevate  him  to  the  highest  point  of  histrionic 
fame,  and  render  him  the  successful  rival  of  (if  not)  the  first 
actor  of  the  age.'* 


68  THE   ACTOR  ; 

After  playing  Richard,  Octavian,  Brutus,  Lear,  and  Othello 
his  first  benefit  in  New  York  was  fixed  for  the  15th  of  October, 
when  he  appeared  as  Hamlet,  and  Jerry  Sneak  in  Foote's  farce 
of  the  "  Mayor  of  Garratt." 

His  representation  of  the  former  character  we  have  always 
regarded  as  one  of  his  best  efforts. 

After  witnessing  Charles  Kemble,  Macready,  C.  Kean,  and 
many  others  in  the  part,  we  frankly  assert  that  we  reaped  more 
entire  satisfaction  from  Booth's  representation. 

In  making  this  remark,  we  disclaim  any  desire  to  detract  from 
the  high  merit  that  belongs  to  the  other  actors  we  have  named. 

The  weariness  of  three  hours  that  we  spent  in  listening  to 
Kemble  as  Hamlet,  until  our  bones  ached,  compared  with  the 
intense  interest  that  Booth  inspired,  is  too  vivid  to  be  easily  for- 
gotten. Mr.  Kemble,  however,  was  not  without  merit,  and 
though  the  drawl  of  his  voice  was  anything  but  pleasing,  there 
was  a  degree  of  artistical  finish  about  the  performance,  worthy 
of  great  praise. 

Mr.  Macready  was  never  a  favorite  of  ours,  and  is,  in  our 
opinion,  indebted  more  to  circumstances  and  to  a  cultivated 
talent  for  his  reputation  and  success,  than  to  any  inherent  genius. 
His  acting,  though  evincing  the  scholar  and  the  artist,  was  too 
cold  and  mechanical  for  our  taste.  No  one  who  witnessed  him 
could  for  a  moment  divest  himself  of  the  knowledge  that  it  was 
Mr.  Macready  who  was  on  the  stage,  instead  of  the  imaginary 
creation  of  the  poet.  No  matter  who  or  what  the  character 
might  be,  still  the  actor  was  visible  and  the  art  apparent.  His 
Hamlet  was  a  soulless,  automaton-like  performance.  His  voice, 
like  Kemble's,  was  excessively  disagreeable — a  deep,  husky, 
guttural  sound,  of  which  he  never  could  rid  himself,  and  which, 
at  times,  rendered  his  reading  almost  ludicrous. 

Charles  Kean's  Hamlet  has  many  beauties,  but  he  is  physically 
disqualified  to  do  justice  to  any  character  in  tragedy.     His  con- 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  69 

ception  is  slow,  and  though  generally  correct,  his  execution  will 
not  second  it.  Nature  has  given  him  a  most  unmelodious  voice, 
the  sound  of  which  appears  to  flow  rather  through  his  nose  than 
its  appropriate  organ  ;  a  face  altogether  unsuited  to  the  charac- 
ters he  attempts,  and  we  doubt  if  she  ever  intended  him  for  an 
actor :  but  Booth,  with  his  distinct  and  melodious  utterance,  his 
expressive  countenance,  and  his  perfect  and  original  execution, 
made  an  admirable  representative  of  the  Prince  of  Denmark. 

It  would  be  impossible,  without  entering  into  a  critical  analysis 
of  his  performance,  which  would  occupy  more  space  than  we 
desire  to  appropriate,  to  give  the  reader  an  adequate  idea  of  his 
success  in  personating  the  philosophic  Dane.  From  the  first  to 
the  last  scene,  it  was  but  a  succession  of  brilliant  and  startling 
effects.  It  was  a  complete  study  in  itself.  Indeed,  we  never  saw 
any  actor  that  embodied  the  character  with  such  a  perfect  con- 
ception of  the  author's  meaning.  Passages  of  obscure  and 
doubtful  import,  as  generally  delivered,  became  clear  to  the 
dullest  comprehension. 

Instead  of  deducing  the  character  of  Hamlet  from  the  text,  his 
mind  seemed  to  grasp  at  once  every  thought  and  act  of  the 
melancholy  prince,  in  one  entire  and  perfect  unity,  and  the  words, 
as  they  fell  from  his  lips,  appeared  rather  the  spontaneous  echoes 
of  his  own  heart,  than  the  studied  phrases  of  the  author. 

How  beautiful  was  the  scene  with  Ophelia,  in  the  third  act ! 
The  strange  and  .startling  burst  of  passion  at  the  sight  of  the 
King  (the  introduction  of  whom,  for  a  moment,  was  entirely  new 
to  us),  was  softened  by  his  tender  feeling  for  Ophelia,  and  the 
quick  and  passionate  pressure  of  her  hand  to  his  lips,  as  he 
leaves  her,  betraying  his  predominant  love  in  spite  of  his  harsh- 
ness, was  a  master-stroke  of  excellence. 

One  of  the  great  points  which  seems  to  have  puzzled  not  only 
the  representatives  of  Hamlet,  but  the  commentators  of  Shak- 


70  THE  actor; 

spere,  is  his  madness,  about  which  there  is  a  great  diversity  of 
opinion. 

The  idea  that  we  have  always  entertained  on  this  subject  is, 
that  Hamlet's  weakness  and  melancholy,  his  ruminating  disposi- 
tion, his  thoughts  of  suicide  and  his  interviews  with  his  father's 
spirit,  his  resolution  to  revenge  his  parent's  murder,  which, 
through  his  infirmity  of  purpose  (the  usual  characteristic  of 
deeply  contemplative  natures),  he  procrastinates,  produces  a  frame 
of  mind  which,  though  not  madness,  borders  on  insanity. 
This,  in  addition  to  his  predetermination  to  assume  madness,  as  a 
mask  to  hide  his  real  feelings  and  purposes,  for  he  speaks  of 
putting  "  an  antic  disposition  on,"  will  account  for  what  otherwise 
would  be  his  strange  and  unnatural  conduct  towards  Ophelia. 

Such  we  understood  to  be  Mr.  Booth's  idea  of  Hamlet's  mad- 
ness ;  at  any  rate,  it  was  the  conclusion  that  we  formed,  after 
witnessing  his  performance.  His  interviews  with  his  mother 
were  intensely  striking,  particularly  the  one  wherein  the  ghost 
stalks  through  the  apartment.  The  sudden  look  of  amazement 
and  the  thousand  thoughts  that  seemed  rushing  through  his  mind 
at  the  sight  of  his  "  father's  spirit  in  arms,"  were  admirably  de- 
picted.    The  lines  beginning : — 

"  Why,  look  you  there  ! — look,  how  it  steals  away/' 

were  given  with  thrilling  effect.  His  ruminations  upon  human 
life  and  his  uncertain  destiny,  his  interview  with  the  ghost,  the 
scene  with  the  players,  and  his  colloquies  at  the  grave  of  Ophelia, 
were  the  perfection  of  the  art. 

The  appearance  of  Mr.  Booth  in  the  lowest  walks  of  comedy, 
presented  a  curious  contrast  to  Mr.  Booth  in  tragedy,  apparently 
having  changed  his  nature  with  his  dress,  and  displaying  the  ver- 
satility of  his  talent  in  assuming  and  maintaining  that  perfect 
conception  of  the  character,  for  which  he  was  so  distinguished. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  7l 

One  of  the  critics  of  the  day  has  said :  "  In  the  *  Mayor  of 
Garratt/  the  acting  of  Mr.  Booth  was  exquisite.  We  feel  an 
emotion  of  sympathy  for  those  who  did  not  see  this  exhibition  of 
comic  talent ;  the  meekness,  folly,  good  nature  and  hen-pecked 
air  were  assuredly  done  to  the  life." 

In  Jerry,  you  see  the  very  soul  of  nature  in  a  fellow  that  is 
"  pigeon  livered  and  lacks  gall "  laid  open  and  anatomized.  You 
can  see  that  his  heart  is  no  bigger  than  one  of  his  pin  heads,  and 
his  head  as  soft  as  a  pipkin.  His  whole  aspect  is  chilled  and 
frightened,  as  if  he  had  been  dipped  into  a  pond,  and  yet  he  looks 
as  if  he  wished  he  could  be  snug  and  comfortable,  if  he  dared. 

He  smiles,  as  if  he  would  be  friends  with  you  on  any  terms, 
and  the  tears  come  in  his  eyes  because  you  will  not  let  him. 
The  tones  of  his  voice  are  prophetic ;  his  words  are  made  of  wa- 
ter gruel.  The  scene  in  which  he  strives  to  make  a  confidant  of 
the  Major  is  great,  and  his  song  of  the  little  old  woman  "  as  me- 
lancholy as  her  disaster  itself." 

The  first  benefit  of  Booth  in  New  York  was  a  liberal  one, 
the  house  being  literally  crammed,  and  the  beneficiary  clearing 
twelve  hundred  dollars.  The  Evening  Post,  of  the  ensuing  day, 
said : — 

"  This  gentleman  took  leave  of  the  New  York  audience  on 
Monday  evening  last.  As  we  anticipated,  his  benefit  was  a  'huTn- 
per,'  Few  actors  have  been  better  received.  He  fully  main- 
tained the  reputation  of  an  actor,  and  exceeded  the  expectations 
of  his  friends,  leaving  the  most  favorable  impression  of  his  his- 
trionic abilities.  At  the  close  of  the  afterpiece,  there  was  a 
unanimous  cry  for  Mr.  Booth,  scarcely  an  individual  leaving 
either  pit  or  boxes,  but  waited  for  his  change  of  dress,  he  then 
appeared  amidst  the  shouts  and  huzzas  of  a  delighted  audience. 

"  The  young  stranger  was  so  evidently  embarrassed  at  the  un- 
expected compliment,  that  he  was  almost  unable  to  speak,  and 


72  THE   ACTOR  ; 

addressed  the  audience  in  a  voice  so  low,  that  we  were  unable  to 
hear  all  he  said.  We  understood  him,  however,  to  say,  that  *he 
was  overwhelmed  with  gratitude,  he  knew  not  how  to  express  the 
feelings  which  their  kindness  and  liberality  had  inspired,  he  was 
unaccustomed  on  such  occasions  to  address  an  audience,  he  did 
not  expect  the  honor  would  have  been  extended  to  him ;  he  never 
should,  he  never  could  forget  it.' 

"  His  agitation  evidently  increasing,  he  bowed  to  the  audience, 
and  retired  amidst  thundering  applause,  leaving  behind  him  im- 
pressions not  a  little  improved  by  the  modesty  of  his  deportment." 

From  New  York  he  went  to  Boston  and  thence  to  Philadelphia, 
Baltimore,  Charleston,  and  in  fact  the  principal  cities  throughout 
the  Union,  everywhere  winning  "  golden  opinions  from  all  sorts 
of  people." 

During  his  travels  he  purchased  a  farm,  at  Bel- Air  in  Mary- 
land, where  he  left  his  "Peacock  "  in  careful  hands,  and  in  1825 
sailed  for  England. 


73 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Booth  in  England— Visit  to  Bristol— Return  to  America — Engagement  at 
the  Park  Theatre— Retirement  to  his  Farm — Visit  of  Henry  Wallack — 
Booth's  Managerial  Efforts  at  the  Chatham  Theatre— The  Production  of 
**  Sylla"— Booth's  Management  at  New  Orleans — His  Performance  of 
Oresti  at  the  French  Theatre — Visit  to  General  Jackson — His  Employ- 
ment at  the  Hermitage— Adventure  with  Mr.  Simmons— Opinion  of  that 
Gentleman  relative  to  Booth's  Readings— Mrs.  Booth  at  Home — Offer  of 
an  Engagement  from  Dana— That  Gentleman's  Management — Booth's  Re- 
turn to  Baltimore — Flynn's  Theatre  in  Annapolis— Theatricals  in  the 
Olden  Time — First  Performance  in  America — Flynn's  Success  in  Annapo- 
lis— Booth's  Non- Appearance — New  Route  to  Annapolis — Queer  Adven- 
ture of  the  Tragedian's — His  Performance — Effort  to  play  on  Sunday,  and 
the  Result. 

Immediately  after  his  arrival  in  England,  Mr.  Booth  appeared 
at  Drury  Lane,  whence,  after  playing  a  short  season  with  great 
success,  he  proceeded  to  the  East  London  Theatre,  to  perform  an 
engagement,  but,  on  his  opening  night,  the  house  was  burnt  to  the 
ground,  and  he  lost  the  greater  portion  of  his  wardrobe. 

He  next  went  to  Bristol,  where  he  enacted  the  principal  cha- 
racters at  the  theatre  under  the  management  of  the  father  of  Mr. 
C.  Macready,  where  he  met  his  quondam  friend  Flynn,  who  was 
then  stage  manager,  and  who  played  the  second  parts  with  him, 
Flynn  at  that  time  being  a  worshipper  of  Thalia,  whom  he  after- 
wards forsook  for  Melpomene. 

Flynn,  at  this  period,  was  very  anxious  to  embark  for  America 
with  Booth,  but  Macready  refused  to  annul  his  engagement. 

4 


74  •  THE    ACTOR  ; 

Booth  soon  after  visited  London,  and  thence  returned  to  Ame- 
rica,  in  1824,  and  made  his  appearance  at  the  Park  Theatre  on 
the  twenty-fourth  of  March  in  Richard  the  Third,     He  then  ap- 
peared successively  as  Sir  Giles  Overreach^  in  "  A  New  Way  to  ; 
Pay  Old   Debts  ;"    Sir  Edward  Mortimer,  in  the  "  Iron  Chest  ;'^  ! 
Fosthumus,  in  "  Cymbeline ;"  Reuben  Glenroy,  in  ^-  Town  and  \ 
Country ;"   and,  on  the  occasion  of  his  benefit,  as  Selim,  in  the 
"  Bride  of  Abydos,"  and  Jerry  Sneak,  in  the  "  Mayor  of  Garratt." 

After  this  engagement,  he  retired  to  his  farm  at  Bel- Air,  where 
he  found  his  "  Peacock"  in  excellent  condition,  and  apparently 
delighted  to  see  his  old  master,  with  whom  he  had  enjoyed  the 
benefit  of  the  sea  air  on  their  voyage  from  Madeira. 

In  the  month  of  June,  he  played  a  few  nights  at  the  Park,  and 
on  the  evening  of  his  benefit  appeared  as  Pescara,  in  the  "  Apos- 
tate ;"  which,  in  the  opinion  of  his  friends,  is  the  proudest  effort 
of  his  genius.  Hemeya  was  represented  by  Mr.  Conway,  who  had 
arrived  a  few  months  previous  from  England,  and  was  command- 
ing a  large  share  of  attention. 

He  returned  again  to  Bel-Air,  where  he  was  visited  by  his  old 
friend,  Mr.  Henry  Wallack,  who  came  as  an  applicant  for  Booth 
to  accompany  him  to  New  York,  and  accept  the  management  of 
the  old  Chatham  Theatre  (since  torn  down),  which  had  been 
leased  by  Wallack  and  Freeman. 

Booth  accepted  the  offer,  which  resulted  in  giving  the  establish- 
ment a  position  in  the  estimation  of  the  public  that  it  had  never 
before  attained.  How  he  managed,  how  pieces  were  produced, 
with  what  regularity  the  stage  movements  were  conducted,  are 
well  remembered  by  those  who  were  in  the  habit  of  attending  the 
playhouse. 

During  the  period  of  his  official  services  it  was  one  of  the  best 
regulated  theatres  in  the  country,  and  such  was  the  strictness 
of  the  rules  (rules  which  were  enforced,  too),  that  actors  con- 


OR,    A   PEEP    BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  75 

nected  with  the  establishment  who  came  ten  minutes  later  than 
the  appointed  time,  were  either  fined  or  discharged. 

The  greatest  regard  was  paid  to  the  appropriateness  and  style 
of  the  scenery  and  costumes,  and  even  the  plays  themselves  were 
subjected  to  a  critical  examination  ;  objectionable  passages  were 
either  altered  or  stricken  out,  and  the  entire  internal  machinery 
of  the  theatre  harmoniously  conducted. 

During  Booth's  stage-management  the  tragedy  of  "Sylla," 
translated  from  the  French  of  E.  Jouy,  for  the  occasion,  was 
produced  in  magnificent  style,  Booth  playing  the  principal  cha- 
racter. It  proved  very  successful,  and  was  repeated  a  number 
•of  nights  to  large  audiences. 

After  remaining  with  Wallack  for  a  period  of  three  months,  he 
left  for  New  Orleans,  and  became  stage-manager  the  ensuing 
winter  at  the  Camp  Street  Theatre,  under  the  management  of 
Mr.  Caldwell,  where  the  same  care  and  attention  in  the  produc- 
tion of  pieces  were  observed  that  characterized  his  management 
at  the  Chatham. 

His  individual  attraction  was  most  extraordinary,  playing  dur- 
ing that  season  Richard  the  Third  about  sixteen  nights,  to  houses 
crowded  to  suffocation. 

Circumstances,  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  induced  Caldwell 
and  Booth  to  separate. 

Mr.  Booth  then  called  on  Mr.  Davis,  the  manager  of  the  The- 
atre d^  Orleans,  and  inquired  what  he  would  give  for  his  services 
one  night,  to  appear  as  OresU,  in  Racine's  tragedy  of  "  An- 
dromaqueJ^ 

We  should  here  premise  that  Mr.  Booth  is  a  perfect  master  of 
the  French  language,  and,  as  far  as  regards  purity  of  pronuncia- 
tion and  accentuation  alone,  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  a 
Frenchman.  It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  add,  that  he  is  also 
entirely  conversant  with  the  Italian,  which  he  speaks  with  equal 


76  THE   ACTOR  ; 

fluency,  is  familiar  with  the  German,  and  has  a  considerable 
knowledge  of  the  Hebrew,  to  say  noiliwg  of  the  Butch, 

Mr.  Davis,  astonished  at  first  at  the  suggestion,  inquired  if  he 
considered  himself  capable  of  doing  it  to  his  own  satisfaction,  to 
which  Booth  replied,  that  unless  he  did  he  should  not  have  made 
the  proposal.  Mr.  Davis  then  offered  him  three  hundred  dollars 
for  each  night's  performance,  during  a  period  of  twelve  nights, 
which  Booth  declined,  his  engagements  not  allowing  him  to  re- 
main more  than  a  single  night.    1?:^  ^a^^^ta^ 

An  arrangement  to  play  one  night  only  was  concluded,  and  he 
appeared  as  Oreste,  which  he  performed  to  the  astonishment  and 
delight  of  all  beholders,  and  so  closely  did  he  imitate  the  style 
of  the  French  tragedians,  even  to  the  peculiarity  of  their  exits 
and  their  manner  of  stage  business,  that  many  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  great  Talma  were  struck  with  the  fact,  that  all  the 
excellencies  of  the  great  French  actor  had  been  copied  and 
adopted  by  Booth. 

At  the  close  of  the  performance  he  was  loudly  called  for,  and 
appeared  amidst  a  shower  of  bouquets  and  reiterated  rounds  of 
applause,  mingled  with  cries  of  "  Talma  !"  and  "  bravo !"  and 
every  demonstration  of  delight  and  approbation  from  an  enthu- 
siastic audience. 

He  left  New  Orleans,  and  played  successfully  at  Natchez,  St. 
Louis,  and  Nashville. 

At  the  latter  place  he  was  invited  to  the  "  Hermitage,"  by  the 
late  ex-President  Jackson,  where  he  remained  a  week,  the  General 
and  his  lady  being  among  the  warmest*admirers  of  his  histrionic 
talents. 

Here  he  amused  the  hero  of  New  Orleans  in  recounting  his 
"hair-breadth  'scapes — his  moving  accidents,  by  flood  and 
field,"  and  in  reading  portions  of  the  scriptures  and  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  which,  in  the  clear  and  distinct  enunciation  of  Booth,  were 
rendered  surpassingly  beautiful.     Whatever  he  read  came  with 


i 


OR,    A   PEEP    BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  77 

all  the  point  and  effect  of  which  the  matter  was  susceptible,  every 
thought  seemingly  concentrated  on  the  subject. 

While  we  are  on  the  subject,  we  will  leave  the  military  veteran 
and  the  tragedian,  to  record  an  incident  related  to  the  writer  by 
the  late  Mr.  Simmons,  whose  lectures  on  elocution  and  dramatic 
poetry  are  well  remembered  by  the  public. 

After  witnessing  one  of  Booth's  splendid  efforts  at  Boston,  Mr. 
Simmons  introduced  himself  to  Booth,  acknowledged  the  pleasure 
he  had  derived  from  listening  to  his  beautiful  readings,  and  re- 
quested that  they  might  read  together  some  passages  of  their  fa- 
vorite author,  he  too  being  a  worshipper  at  the  shrine  of  Shak- 
spere. 

Booth  readily  consented,  and  invited  Mr.  Simmons  to  accompany 
him  to  his  lodgings. 

Late  as  it  was,  they  started  in  company,  and  after  threading 
numerous  narrow  streets  and  obscure  lanes,  they  finally  reached 

a  small  tenement  in street,  where  Booth  knocked  at  the  door, 

and  with  his  companion,  was  led  by  the  servant  up  several  flights 
of  stairs  to  a  room,  the  furniture  of  which  consisted  of  a  bed,  two 
chairs,  and  a  pine  table.  A  light  having  been  procured,  the  tra- 
gedian took  from  a  shelf  two  volumes,  which  proved  to  be  the 
Bible  and  a  copy  of  Shakspere. 

"  Now,"  said  Booth,  "  I  will  read  from  either." 

"  Well ;  from  the  scriptures,  then,''  said  Simmons,  "  for  I  would 
like  to  hear  the  sacred  volume  read  by  one  so  capable  of  giving 
force  and  effect  to  the  sublimity  of  its  language." 

Booth  selected  a  chapter,  "  and  never,"  said  Mr.  Simmons, 
"  was  I  before  so  struck  with  the  eloquence,  beauty,  and  power 
of  the  passages  read  by  the  great  actor,  as  when  seated  at  that 
pine  table ; — his  fine  features  glowing  with  the  fire  of  genius,  he 
poured  out  his  rich  melodious  tones,  apparently  completely  absorbed 
by  his  subject.     Late  as  it  was,  I  could  have  sat  the  night  through, 


7S  THE    ACTOR  ; 

listening  to  eloquence  till  then  unheard,  and  of  which  before  I 
had  no  conception." 

Such  praise  as  this,  from  a  mind  like  that  of  the  late  eloquent 
and  classical  Simmons,  whose  fine  talents  were  generally  acknow- 
ledged, and  whose  untimely  death  was  most  sincerely  deplored,  is 
worth  a  thousand  of  the  stereotyped  puffs  which  encumber  a  por- 
tion of  the  daily  press;  It  was  a  just  tribute  to  genius,  from  a 
mind  of  superior  excellence. 

From  Nashville,  Booth  proceeded  to  Cincinnati,  and  thence  to 
Bel-Air,  where  he  was  seized  with  a  serious  illness,  resulting 
from  fatigue  and  over-exertion,  in  which  he  was  attended  by  Mrs. 
Booth,  who  administered  to  his  wants  with  all  that  interest  and 
deep-devotedness  which  a  fond  wife  only  can  show.  It  is  but  an 
act  of  justice  to  here  render  one  feeble  tribute  of  praise  to  a  de- 
serving woman,  who,  in  the  quiet  of  her  home,  is  equally  honored 
for  her  virtues  and  the  kindness  of  her  heart ;  and  Booth,  whose 
erratic  course  is  proverbial,  was  never  known  to  act  otherwise 
than  as  the  kindest  of  fathers,  and  the  most  affectionate  of  hus- 
bands. 

In  the  fall  of  1831,  Booth  had  an  offer  from  Mr.  Dana,  of  the 
Tremont  Theatre,  Boston,  to  accept  an  engagement  in  that  city, 
Mr.  Dana  having  leased  the  establishment.  This  gentleman  had 
formerly  been  engaged  in  business  as  an  exchange  broker,  and 
probably  knew  more  about  the  value  of  uncurrent  money  than 
the  intricate  management  of  a  theatre.  He  was  rash  enough  to 
embark  in  a  hazardous  employment,  of  which  he  was  entirely  ig- 
norant. 

He  made  arrangements  with  various  theatrical  "  stars  "  to  per- 
form the  same  characters  on  the  same  evenings,  and  so  loosely 
did  he  manage  his  affairs,  that  Hamblin  and  Booth  were  engaged 
to  perform  a  number  of  nights  at  the  same  time,  each  arriving 
and  claiming  the  house,  according  to  agreement. 

Of  course  the  manager  selected  the  attractive  star  to  perform, 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  79 

and  Mr.  Hamblin  would  sit  in  one  of  the  boxes,  witnessing  Booth's 
performance,  receiving  a  hundred  dollars  per  night,  without  act- 
ing, which  this  once  popular  tragedian,  curiously  enough,  is  fond 
of  relating  as  a  capital  joke. 

After  Booth  left  Boston  he  went  to  join  his  family  in  Baltimore, 
where  he  met  his  old  friend  Flynn,  for  the  first  time  in  America. 
Flynn,  at  this  period,  was  engaged  in  erecting  a  theatre  in  An- 
napolis (the  present  capital  of  Maryland),  a  place  rendered  inte- 
resting from  the  fact  of  its  being  the  spot  where  the  first  regular 
theatre  was  built  in  America,  in  1752. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  the  way  to  give  a  copy  of  the  first  bill  of 
announcement,  the  contrast  between  it  and  that  of  the  advertise- 
ments now  issued,  being  sufficiently  curious  to  make  it  worthy  of 
record : 

"  By  permission  of  his  Honour  the  President.  At  the  new  theatre  in  An- 
napolis, by  the  company  of  comedians,  on  Monday  next,  being  the  13th  of 
this  instant,  July,  1752,  will  be  performed  a  comedy  called  The  Beaux* 
Stratagem.  Likewise,  a  farce  called  the  Virgin  Unmasked.  To  begin 
precisely  at  7  o'clock.  Tickets  to  be  had  at  the  printing  office.  Box  10 
shillings,  pit  7  and  6  pence,  gallery  5  shillings.  No  person  to  be  admitted 
behind  the  scenes." 

We  believe,  however,  that  it  was  at  Williamsburgh,  which  was 
then  the  capital,  that  the  first  play  was  enacted  in  the  Western 
World,  it  being  in  a  storehouse  which  had  been  converted  into  a 
temple  of  the  muses,  by  Hallam,  in  1751.  It  is  also  worthy  of 
record,  that  the  first  performance  consisted  of  Shakspere's  "  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,' '  and  Garrick's  farce  of  "  Lethe ;"  thus  the 
"  Swan  of  Avon,"  and  his  worshipper,  led  the  way  for  the  drama 
in  the  New  World. 

While  Booth  and  Flynn  were  in  Baltimore,  the  latter  proposed 
to  his  friend,  to  play  on  the  Monday  week  following,  offering  him 
a  clear  one-third  of  each  night's  receipts.  Booth  accepted  the 
engagement,  and  Flynn  opened  the  Annapolis  Theatre,  for  a  sea- 


90  THE   ACTOR  ; 

son  of  seven  weeks,  during  which  time  the  following  persons  ap- 
peared :  Cooper,  Wood,  "  Old  Jefferson,"  Co  well,  wife  and  son, 
Clara  Fisher,  Mrs.  Barnes,  Geo.  Holland,  Flynn  and  wife,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Blake,  Mr.  Somerville,  and  various  others.  During  the 
seven  weeks  the  unprecedented  sum  of  nine  thousand  dollars  was 
received  in  this  small  place. 

Booth  did  not  appear  according  to  announcement,  nor  did  he 
arrive  in  Annapolis  until  a  week  afterwards.  Instead  of  travel- 
ling by  land,  as  any  one  else  would  have  done,  he  took  passage 
in  a  wood-sloop.  Flynn,  in  the  meantime,  had  written  to  Balti- 
more, and  all  the  information  that  he  could  gain  from  Mrs.  Booth 
relative  to  the  tragedian,  was,  that  he  had  started  for  Annapolis 
some  days  previous. 

Passing  down  the  .principal  street,  Flynn  was  accosted  by  a 
dirty  urchin,  who  inquired  if  he  "  was  the  manager  of  the  thea* 
tre  V 

"  Yes,"  said  Flynn,  "  why  do  you  ask  V 

"  Because,"  answered  the  boy,  "we've  got  one  of  your  playing 
chaps  on  board  our  sloop,  raising  the  devil  with  the  captain,  who 
wishes  you  to  come  and  take  him  away." 

"  Well,"  said  Flynn,  "  show  me  the  vessel,''  and  away  trudged 
the  manager,  with  the  boy  at  his  heels,  to  the  sloop,  where,  to  his 
astonishment,  he  found  the  captain  on  his  knees,  with  a  large 
bowl  in  his  hand,  and  Booth  standing  opposite  with  a  musket 
levelled  at  him,  the  tragedian  exclaiming  in  his  tragical  tones, 
"  Drink,  Sir  !  Drink  !  you're  bilious  and  require  physic  ;  I  know 
it  by  you're  eyes  ;  I  know  it  by  you're  skin.  Drink,  Sir,  or  I'll 
send  you  to  another  and  a  better  world  !" 

"  Pray  let  me  off,"  said  the  captain.  "  Think  of  my  wife  and 
children  !  I've  drank  six  bowls  full  already,  which  has  nearly 
killed  me,  and  this  I  know  will  physic  me  to  death." 

Booth  had  accidentally  seen  the  captain's  medicine  chest,  and 
was  administering  salts  to  his  frightened  patient. 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  81 

Flynn  took  the  musket  from  Booth,  explained  to  the  captain  the 
tragedian's  occasional  aberrations  of  mind,  apologized,  made  him 
a  present,  shook  hands,  and  returned  to  his  lodgings  with  his 
whimsical  friend. 

During  this  engagement,  Booth  never  played  with  more  satis- 
faction to  an  audience,  or  credit  to  himself.  The  theatre  was 
attended  by  the  most  reputable  people  in  the  place,  and  was 
nightly  crowded. 

Before  he  left  Annapolis,  he  contracted  an  acquaintance  with 

the  Town  Clerk,  an  individual  by  the  name  of  W s. 

This  gentleman  happened  to  have  a  propensity  for  indulging  in 
a  social  glass,  and  Booth  managed  to  get  him  partly  intoxicated. 
He  then,  after  paying  him  the  tax  of  five  dollars  for  a  thea- 
trical representation,  coaxed,  until  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  from 
him  a  license  to  play  on  Sunday  night. 

He  immediately  wended  his  way  to  Flynn.  "  Here,"  said 
Booth,  "  is  a  license  to  play  next  Sunday  night.  Have  you  any 
objection  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Flynn. 

"  Give  me  your  consent  then  in  writing,"  said  the  tragedian. 
"  You  shall  have  it,"  responded  the  manager,  for  no  one  was 
more  ready  for  a  joke. 

The  manager  assembled  the  actors,  got  their  consent,  and  the 
play  of"  Hamlet"  was  cast  and  bills  issued,  to  the  astonishment 
of  the  sober-minded  people  of  Annapolis,  and  the  threats  of  those 
in  authority. 

The  theatre  was  lighted,  and  poor  W came  to  Booth,  and, 

in  the  most  piteous  manner,  told  him  of  the  dilemma  into  which 
he  had  been  seduced  in  an  unguarded  moment, — that  it  had 
already  injured  him  considerably,  and  the  result  would  be  his 
disgrace  and  loss  of  situation.  He  returned  Booth  the  five 
dollars,  who  was  finally  prevailed  upon  to  forego  this  extraordi- 
nary whim. 

4* 


82 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Booth  in  Philadelphia — Engagement  at  the  Chestnut  Street  Theatre — Visit 
to  the  Circus — Public  Performance  in  the  Sti:eet— Return  to  Bel-Air — 
Booth's  Generosity — Engagement  at  the  Park  Theatre — Booth  and  Forrest 
— "  Mud  Theatre"  of  Baltimore — Booth's  Association  with  Flynn  in  its 
Alteration  and  Management — Their  Managerial  Arrangements  at  the 
Holliday  Street  Theatre — The  Company  Engaged — Booth's  Appearance  in 
a  variety  of  Characters — His  Performance  of  Luke  in  "  Riches" — Booth's 
Acting  considered — His  "  Richard"  reviewed — Dibut  of  Charles  Kean  in 
Baltimore — Extraordinary  Distribution  of  Characters — Booth  in  a  subordi- 
nate Part — Close  of  the  Season — Booth's  Habits  of  Study — Difficulties  at- 
tending the  Profession — Kemble's  Remark  on  Hamlet — Requisites  for  an 
actor,  with  Accompanying  Reflections. 

From  Annapolis,  Booth  went  to  Philadelphia,  and  opened  at  the 
Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  under  the  management  of  Messrs.  Pratt 
and  Weymms,  and  here,  the  Annapolis  whim  seems  to  have  fol- 
lowed him,  for  he  still  insisted  that  there  was  no  immorality  in 
performing  a  play  on  the  Sabbath. 

He  dressed  himself  for  "  Hamlet"  one  Sunday  morning,  and 
during  the  day  went  to  Fog  and  Stickney's  Circus,  and  mounted 
one  of  the  most  vicious  horses  in  the  stable, — one  in  fact,  that  no 
one  but  the  owner  could  approach  with  safety. 

The  noble  animal,  however,  as  if  conscious  of  some  extraordi- 
nary performance,  allowed  Booth  to  approach,  conduct  him  out 
of  the  stable,  mount  without  saddle  or  bridle,  and  ride  him  through 
the  streets,  to  the  wonder  and  astonishment  of  the  quiet  citizens  of 
Penn,  who  were  wending  their  way  from  church. 


OR,    A   PEEP    BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  83 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  the  tragedian  to  the  passers  by, 
"  I  intend  to  perform  Hamlet  to  night,  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor, 
and  a  good  play  is  worth  forty  sermons,  both  for  morals  and  re- 
formation," and  then  changing  his  voice  to  a  musical  strain,  he 
sang  : — 

"  Oh,  'tis  my  delight 
Of  a  shiny  night 
In  the  season  of  the  year," 
;?v 

to    which   he    added    the    significant   remark,  "  Join    chorus, 
Christians." 

His  friends  had  considerable  difficulty  to  overcome  this  strange 
caprice.  He  was  taken  to  his  farm,  at  Bel-Air,  and  by  the  care 
of  his  family,  he  soon  regained  his  health  and  reason. 

It  was  during  this  visit  of  Booth's  to  Philadelphia,  that  his 
native  liberality  and  generosity  were  manifested  towards  Mrs. 
Gilfert,  on  being  made  acquainted  with  the  death  of  her  husband. 
Recollecting  his  politeness,  on  the  occasion  of  his  own  debut  in 
Richmond,  he  enclosed  two  hundred  dollars  in  an  envelope,  and 
sent  it  to  her  anonymously,  one  person  only  witnessing  the  act, 
by  whom  it  was  communicated  to  the  writer. 

He  continued  in  Maryland  during  the  summer,  taking  his 
usual  rides  to  Baltimore,  on  his  well  known  "  Peacock." 

In  the  month  of  September,  1831,  he  received  an  offer  from 
Mr.  Simpson  of  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  to  play  two  nights 
in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Forrest,  which  he  accepted. 

"  Venice  Preserved"  was  produced  on  the  first  occasion.  Booth 
enacting  Pierre,  and  Forrest  Jaffier. 

The  second  night,  "  Othello"  was  performed,  Forrest  playing 
Othello,  and  Booth,  lago.  On  both  occasions  the  house  was 
crowded  to  overflowing,  and  for  some  reason,  which  can  only  be 
guessed  at,  Forrest  has,  we  believe,  never  attempted  Jaffier  since. 


84  THE    ACTOE  ;      '  "    '     ■■'^■■ 

Other  arrangements  prevented  the  two  tragedians  from  extending 
their  engagements. 

As  this  is  the  only  place  in  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
allude  to  Mr.  Forrest,  we  have  a  few  observations  to  offer  upon 
the  "  American  Tragedian."  It  is  not  our  intention,  however,  to 
give  any  facts  in  his  life,  not  that  they  would  be  devoid  of  interest 
to  the  public,  but  that  they  are  generally  familiar  to  the  world. 

We  confess  partiality  towards  Mr.  Forrest,  both  as  an  actor 
and  as  a  man,  and  as  he  is  the  only  American  that  has  ever  risen 
to  eminence  as  a  tragedian,  we  are  proud  of  the  estimation  in 
which  he  is  held  by  his  countrymen,  and  of  the  attention  he 
has  received  in  the  Old  World. 

With  little  or  no  education  in  his  boyhood,  he  has  surmounted 
difficulties  which  nothing  but  the  most  devoted  perseverance  and 
intense  application  could  overcome,  until  he  has  reached  a  very 
desirable  position  in  the  histrionic  art. 

Mr.  Forrest  has  had  two  classes  of  individuals  to  contend 
against.  The  first,  his  friends,  who  have  lavished  the  most 
extravagant  panegyrics  upon  his  acting,  and  the  last,  his  enemies, 
who  have  bestowed  the  most  indiscriminate  censure.  We  have 
no  sympathy  with  either. 

We  never  regarded  Mr.  Forrest  as  a  Shaksperian  actor,  and 
his  performances  of  Hamlet  and  Richard  are  a  proof  of  the  truth 
of  our  opinion ;  but  in  characters  like  Virginius,  Damon,  Riche- 
lieu and  Spartacus,  which  depend  mainly  upon  the  display  of 
intense  and  highly-wrought  passion,  and  requiring  great  physical 
strength,  he  certainly  has  no  superior  on  the  stage.  In  quiet  and 
subdued  passages  he  is  not  so  successful,  although  there  can  be 
found  many  who  will  disagree  with  us  in  this  opinion. 

Mr.  Forrest  has  one  great  merit.  If  he  sometimes  tears  "  a 
passion  to  tatters,"  he  never  allows  it  to  "  come  tardy  off,"  and 
the  spectator  is  interested,  however  much  he  may  find  to  censure. 


OK,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  85 

As  John  Philip  Kemble  said  of  Edmund  Kean,  he  is  "  terribly  in 
earnest." 

In  Roman  characters,  his  lofty  and  dignified  bearing  cannot 
but  challenge  admiration,  and  in  his  delineation  of  the  noble 
virtues  of  Damon  and  Brutus,  his  contempt  for  tyranny  and 
oppression  seems  but  the  echo  of  his  own  individual  feelings. 
The  friends  of  Forrest  have  already  blended  with  his  name  many 
of  the  virtues  of  his  Roman  characters,  and  we  are  inclined  to 
the  opinion  that  he  is  not  undeserving  of  them. 

Though  his  early  career  was  marked  by  indigence  and  unin- 
tellectual  association,  he  has  in  his  maturer  years  nobly  improved 
the  opportunities  which  more  favorable  circumstances  have  per- 
mitted him  to  embrace,  and  his  career  both  on  and  off  the  stage 
is  an  example  worthy  of  imitation. 

In  private  life  he  is  alike  honored  for  his  kindness  of  heart 
and  amiable  deportment.  No  man  has  more  friends,  or  is  more 
deserving  of  them  than  Edwin  Forrest. 

Some  weeks  previous  to  the  engagement  of  Forest  and  Booth 
at  the  Park,  the  latter  had  taken  a  lease  of  the  "  Mud  Theatre," 
of  Baltimore,  and  was  altering  and  enlarging  it  to  a  beautiful 
and  convenient  place  of  amusement,  which  he  called  the 
^^Adelphi." 

After  having  expended  four  thousand  dollars  in  fitting  it  up,  he 
associated  Flynn  with  him  as  partner.  That  gentleman  having 
become  the  acting  manager,  he  engaged  a  company,  to  open  on 
the  sixteenth  of  September. 

The  Adelphi  not  being  entirely  completed  at  the  anticipated 
time,  the  managers  hired  the  Holliday  Street  Theatre,  at  seventy- 
five  dollars  per  week,  until  their  own  establishment  was  ready, 
and  opened  it  with  the  comedy  of  "  Town  and  Country,"  Booth 
playing  Reuben  Glenroy,  and  Mrs.  Booth,  Rosalie  Somers,  being 
her  first  appearance  on  any  stage.  The  farce  of  "  My  Aunt " 
followed,  Flynn  playing  Dick  Dashall,  and  John  Sefton,  Rattle, 


86  THE    ACTOR  ;  1 

The  company  consisted  of  Booth,  Cooper,  John  Duff,  Warren, 
Flynn,  John  Sefton,  Thomas  Archer,  D.  McKinney,  Mercer  and 
family,  W.  Isherwood,  the  popular  Roberts,  and  the  lamented 
Finn  ;  also,  Mrs.  Duff,  Mrs.  Flynn,  Mrs.  Booth,  Mrs.  Hughes, 
Mrs.  Smith,  Miss  Geer,  and  others. 

The  season  was  very  prosperous.  Booth  playing  continually. 
He  enacted,  during  this  period,  a  greater  variety  of  parts  than 
he  ever  played  in  the  country  on  any  previous  occasion.  In  ad- 
dition to  his  usual  list  of  characters,  he  appeared  as  Roderick 
Dhu,  Richard  the  Second,  Selim,  in  the  "  Bride  of  Abydos," 
Faulkland,  in  the  "  Rivals,"  Penruddock,  in  the  "  Wheel  of 
Fortune,"  and  Luke,  in  *•'  Riches." 

The  novelty  of  these  pieces,  which  are  seldom  performed  in 
this  country,  drew  crowded  houses  nightly.  His  representation 
of  the  latter  character,  Luke,  in  the  play  of  "  Riches,"  altered 
from  Massinger's  "  City  Madam,"  was  one  of  his  most  striking 
efforts.  It  was  an  original  and  beautiful  performance.  His 
assumption  of  the  lowly  penitent,  after  a  course  of  extravagance 
and  folly,  his  seeming  humility  to  gain  once  more  his  tyrannic 
sway,  his  quick  return  to  his  real  character  and  brutal,  nay, 
almost  fiend-like  cruelty  towards  his  dependent  relatives,  after 
gaining  his  power,  were  among  the  most  life-like  scenes  ever 
portrayed  by  this  master  of  the  passions. 

Who  that  has  witnessed  his  representation,  can  ever  forget  his 
hypocritical  plea  for  mercy  when  discovered  in  his  treachery,  and 
his  sudden,  tiger-like  spring,  after  finding  it  disregarded,  and  the 
bold  transition  from  the  fawning  suppliant  to  the  daring  ruffian, 
defying,  even  in  defeat,  his  injured  brother  ? 

His  representation  of  this  character  alone  would  stamp  him 
superior  to  any  actor  on  the  stage. 

His  Reuben  Glenroy  was  also  much  admired  for  its  chaste  and 
beautiful  performance.  It  was,  however,  in  the  portrayal  of  the 
dark  and  gloomier  passions  of  our  nature,  in  the  representation  of 


OR,    A   PEEP    BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN. 


87 


bold  and  romantic  villainy,  inexplicable  hatred,  or  insatiable 
revenge,  that  he  was  most  remarkable.  The  inward  workings  of 
the  mind  developed  themselves  on  his  countenance;  the  eye 
dilated,  the  bosom  heaved,  the  veins  of  the  temple  swelled  almost 
to  bursting,  the  face  now  reddened  to  the  deepest  hue,  and  anon 
paled  to  the  ashy  whiteness  of  marble,  and  finally,  when  death 
was  about  closing  the  career  of  the  mimic  hero,  and  the  voice 
seemed  hushed  by  its  near  approach,  the  countenance  yet  evinced 
what  the  tongue  refused  to  utter. 

As  Pescara,  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  Sir  Edward  Mortimer,  lago, 
he  was  without  an  equal ;  and  his  Richard  the  Third,  after  Kean's 
death,  became  and  remains  entirely  his  own.  No  other  actor 
seems  to  have  had  the  power  of  depicting  the  deep,  wily,  and 
ambitious  character  of  the  tyrant.  Booth  had  all  the  requisites 
of  mind  and  person. 

His  fine  eye  and  musical  voice,  his  physical  power,  which  sus- 
tained him  through  five  acts,  during  which  Richard  is  almost 
constantly  before  the  audience,  and  his  manner  of  conceiving  and 
executing  the  character,  rendered  him  in  this  part,  "  himself 
alone." 

In  the  first  three  acts,  his  profound  dissimulation  and  cunning, 
through  which  his  ardent  aspirations  for  the  crown  betrayed 
themselves,  his  hypocritical  interview  with  the  "  Mayor  and  citi- 
zens," and  the  exhibition  of  his  real  character  immediately  after, 
the  scene  with  Tyrrell,  the  murderer  of  the  princes,  and  his  soli- 
loquies throughout,  were  beyond  all  praise. 

In  the  closing  acts,  he  boldly  shadowed  forth  the  spirit  of  a 
Plantagenet.  Richard,  though  a  tyrant  and  a  villain,  was  still 
the  descendant  of  a  long  and  princely  line  of  ancestors.  How 
vividly  did  Booth  portray  the  determined  spirit  of  the  soldier,  and 
in  the  last  scene  with  what  savage  fury  did  he  attack  Richmond ! 
Indeed,  it  was  one  of  his  chief  characteristics  to  abandon  himself 


88 


.^      THE   ACTOR 


entirely  to  the  part  that  he  assumed,  and  you  forgot  the  actor 
and  the  man,  in  the  character  personified. 

During  the  season,  Mr.  Charles  Kean  made  his  first  appearance 
at  Baltimore,  as  Richard  the  Third,  but  during  the  whole  of  his 
engagement  he  seldom  drew  a  sufficient  number  of  persons  to 
defray  the  expenses,  and  the  public,  of  course,  would  draw  com- 
parisons between  Booth  and  Kean,  and  the  latter,  relying  more 
upon  the  borrowed  lustre  of  his  father's  name,  than  any  merit  of 
his  own,  met  with  but  little  success. 

The  tragedy  of  "  Hamlet"  was  "  got  up,"  with  the  following 
powerful  cast,  in  order  to  give  him  every  opportunity  to  make  an 
impression  : — 


Hamlet,         •         .         . 

Mr.  C.  Kean. 

Ghost,             .         .         •         , 

«    Duf. 

Polonius, 

"     Warren, 

Laertes, 

"    Acher. 

Horatio, 

"    Hazard. 

King, 

"    Isherwood. 

Osric, 

«    J.  Sefton. 

First  Grave  Digger, 

"    Flynn, 

Second  do.         do.            . 

"    Mercer. 

First  Actor,    .         .         .         , 

"    McKinney. 

Second  do 

"    Booth. 

Ophelia, 

Mrs.  Flynn. 

Queen, 

"    Dw/. 

Booth,  in  selecting  the  most  subordinate  character  in  the  piece, 
brought  into  operation  the  entire  strength  of  the  company.  His 
whole  performance  consisted  in  the  recitation  of  the  following 
lines : — 


**  Thoughts  black,  hands  apt,  drugs  fit,  and  time  agreeing ; 
Confederate  season,  else  no  creature  seeing ; 


♦  OR,    A   PEEP    BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  89 

Thou  mixture  rank,  of  midnight  weeds  collected. 
With  Hecate's  ban  thrice  blasted — thrice  infected, 
Thy  natural  magic,  and  dire  property, 
On  wholesome  life  usurp  immediately,'* 

which  he  delivered  with  great  beauty  and  effect,  commanding 
round  upon  round  of  applause,  thus  proving  how  much  more 
depends  upon  the  ability  of  the  actor,  than  upon  the  importance 
of  the  part.  The  true  diamond  will  glisten,  however  bad  may  be 
the  setting.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  he  won  more  approbation 
and  applause  for  his  brief  performance,  than  the  Hamlet  of  the 
evening.  .  .  ,^  ... 

The  house  closed  after  a  prosperous  season  of  sixteen  weeks^ 
yielding  sufficient  to  pay  for  the  alterations  of  the  Adelphi,  the 
expenses  to  all  concerned,  and  a  profit  of  twenty-six  hundred 
dollars. 

Whenever  Booth  occupied  official  situations  in  the  theatre, 
his  industry  was  untiring.  When  not  otherwis  engaged, 
it  was  his  custom  to  saunter  among  the  fields,  pursuing 
his  studies,  and  by  the  way,  it  is  the  want  of  this  system  of  ap- 
plication which  proves  the  rock  upon  which  the  majority  of  our 
actors  are  shipwrecked. 

How  many  years  would  it  require  to  completely  understand 
such  a  character  as  Lear  or  Hamlet  ?  What  study  must  it  cost, 
and  what  time  is  requisite,  to  obtain  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
part !  How  many  works  have  been  written  in  the  endeavor  to 
analyze  the  single  character  of  Macbeth,  and  what  depth  and 
intricacy  of  thought  must  be  imbued  in  the  creations  of  the 
immortal  bard,  to  have  puzzled  the  acumen  of  such  commenta- 
tors as  Johnson,  Stevens,  and  Malone ! 

The  great  John  Philip  Kemble,  whose  fame  rests  on  his  repre- 
sentation of  Shakspere's  heroes,  asserted,  that  after  having 
devoted  thirty  years  to  the  study  of  Hamlet,  he  was  yet  incompe- 


00  THE   ACTOR  ; 

tent  to  do  it  justice,  although  he  almost  made  the  character  his 
own  by  the  masterly  manner  in  which  he  played  it. 

Yet,  in  the  face  of  all  these  facts,  it  is  no  uncommon  occurrence, 
for  a  theatrical  aspirant  to  attempt  Hamlet  or  Othello,  on  the 
night  of  his  debut,  with  just  knowledge  enough  of  the  character  to 
recollect  the  language.  Indeed,  the  majority  of  stage-struck 
heroes  select  "  Richard  the  Third"  for  their  opening  night,  and, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  are  subjected  to  the  mortification  of  %» 
failure.  * 

The  actor's  art  is,  perhaps,  the  most  difficult  of  all  professions. 
It  requires  years  of  practice  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the 
business  of  the  stage,  and  to  wear  off  the  indescribable  dread, 
which  invariably  attends  the  novice. 

It  is  also  requisite  that  nature  should  be  bounteous  in  her  gifts. 
A  good  figure  and  a  striking  countenance  are  necessary,  and  a 
clear  and  sonorous  voice  is  almost  indispensable.  In  addition  idt 
this,  it  requires  a  thorough  classical  education,  a  power  of  observa- 
tion, a  good  memory,  and  above  all,  a  natural  genius  for  the  art, 
without  which,  no  actor  can  rise  to  the  highest  standard  of 
excellence. 

As  an  instance  of  what  study  and  talent  combined,  can  effect, 
we  need  but  point  to  Mr.  Macready  and  Mr.  Charles  Kean,  both 
of  whom,  in  spite  of  physical  disadvantages,  and  without  a  spark 
of  the  electric  fire  which  burns  in  the  heart  of  genius,  have, 
nevertheless,  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  reputation,  to  which,  with 
all  due  deference  to  the  opinions  of  others  who  think  differently, 
they  are  far  from  being  entitled. 


91 


CHAPTER  X. 

Mr.  Booth's  Engagement  in  Philadelphia — Brown's  Tragedy  of  "  Sartorius" 
— Engagement  at  Boston — Booth's  address  to  the  audience^ — His  pedes- 
trian feat  to  Providence — Visit  to  New  York — Engagement  of  Hamblin 
— Journey  towards  Richmond — Adventures  on  the  road — A  Theatrical 
Company  at  Booth's  Farm — Mr.  Booth  "  at  home" — His  four  footed 
"  Peacock"— Interesting  tableau — Booth's  voiceless  companions — Per- 
formance at  Richmond — Announcement  of  the  "  Apostate" — Synopsis  of 
the  Plot — Booth's  "  Pescara" — His  return  to  the  Farm. 

In  January,  1832,  Mr.  Booth  commenced  an  engagement  in 
Philadelphia,  at  the  Chestnut-street  Theatre,  in  a  new  play,  called 
"  Sartorius,"  written  by  David  Paul  Brown,  an  eminent  lawyer 
of  that  city.  Mr.  Booth's  acting  of  this  new  part  was  really 
sublime,  a,nd  drew  crowds  nightly,  to  witness^  its  representation. 
The  tragedy  possesses  considerable  point  and  beauty,  and  some 
of  the  situations  are  highly  dramatic.  Why  Mr.  Booth  has  not 
since  enacted  it  we  cannot  conceive,  it  being  one  of  his  most  ex- 
quisite performances. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  year  he  went  on  a  professional 
tour  to  New  Orleans,  Mobile,  St.  Louis,  Louisville  and  Cincin- 
nati, returned  to  his  farm  in  Maryland  in  the  month  of  June,  and 
remained  there  during  the  season  of  the  cholera. 

In  the  fall  of  that  year  he  accepted  an  engagement  from  Dana, 
to  play  in  Boston,  and  was  to  receive  twelve  hundred  dollars  for 
nine  nights'  performance,  Dana  retaining  the  proceeds  of  his 


§2  THE  actor; 

benefit,  and  Booth  not  to  be  paid  any  money,  until  he  had  played  . 
the  stipulated  number  of  nights. 

On  the  ninth  evening,  "  Evadne"  and  "  Amateurs  and  Actors" 
were  to  be  performed,  Mr.  Booth  being  announced  as  Lodovico 
in  the  play,  and  Jeffrey  Muffincap  in  the  farce. 

During  his  performance  of  the  former  character,  being  imper- 
fect in  the  part,  the  audience  manifested  some  disapprobation,  at 
which  Mr.  Booth  stepped  forward  to  the  foot  lights  and  addressed 
the  spectators  as  follows  : — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen, — I  understand  you  well ;  Wilson's* 
the  tragedy- boy  for  you.  You'd  better  get  him  to  finish  the  part, 
and  he's  a  good  figure  for  the  tragedy-boy  in  the  farce ;  I've 
other  business  to  attend  to,  so  I  wish  you  all  good  night." 

Neither  entreaties  nor  threats  of  law  suits  could  induce  him  to 
finish  the  performance,  but  he  made  his  exit  at  once,  and  walked 
the  entire  distance  to  Providence,  in  a  wretched  state  of  raind, 
and  bodily  fatigue. 

Dinneford,  formerly  Manager  of  the  Bowery  Theatre,  at  this 
period,  kept  a  Lottery  office  in  Providence.  Booth  called  on 
him,  and  Dinneford,  who  has  one  of  the  kindest  of  hearts,  used 
every  exertion  to  resuscitate  and  bring  him  to  himself. 

He  soon  after  left  Providence  and  arrived  in  New  York,  where 
he  met  Hamblin,  who  offered  him  a  year's  engagement,  to  per- 
form  three  nights  a  week,  at  a  salary  of  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars  per  week,  which  Booth  accepted. 

Hamblin  then  advised  Mr.  Phillips,  better  known  by  the  cogno- 
men of  "  Nosey  Phillips,"  to  hire  the  Richmond  Theatre,  in  Vir^. 
ginia,  and  that  he  (Hamblin),  Booth,  and  the  popular  and  unfoB 

*  Wilson  was  the  tragedian  of  the  opposition  house,  and  a  most  indiflfefi^ 
ent  one,  having  no  qualifications  for  an  actor.      Nature  too  had  "  marred 
his  fair  proportions,"  by  making  him  excessively  bow-legged. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  93 

tunate  Miss  Vincent  would  proceed  thither — to  write  immediately, 
use  their  names,  and  he  would  be  sure  to  obtain  it.  Phillips  did 
so,  and  hired  the  Theatre,  engaged  the  cheapest  company  he 
could  find  (his  usual  style  of  management),  and  they  all  started 
from  this  city,  for  Virginia.  They  reached  Philadelphia  in 
safety,  but  on  the  road  to  Baltimore,  when  about  two  miles  from 
Booth's  residence,  the  stage  broke  down,  and  Richard,  Hamlet, 
Ghost,  Ophelia,  Grave-digger,  and  "  Fat  Jack,"  were  all  huddled 
promiscuously  into  one  common  pile  together.  Their  "exi^" 
from  this  stage  was  sans  ceremonie. 

There  being  no  opportunity  or  prospect  of  proceeding  on  their 
journey  until  noon  of  the  ensuing  day.  Booth  proposed  to  walk  to 
his  farm,  tendering  them  all  the  accommodation  that  his  premises 
would  allow. 

The  offer  was  accepted,  and  the  whole  party  arrived  at  Booth's 
residence,  where  the  principal  room  in  the  house  was  shared  by 
Mrs.  Booth  with  Miss  Vincent,  the  servants  vacating  theirs  to 
Booth  and  Hamblin. 

Hamblin,  who  is  subject  to  the  asthma,  had  an  attack  of  his 
complaint  during  the  night,  which  prevented  him  from  sleeping, 
so,  like  a  philosopher,  he  pulled  out  his  pipe  and  stramonium 
which  he  always  carried  as  a  preventive  to  the  malady,  and  en- 
veloped himself  and  Booth  in  a  cloud  of  smoke. — Occasionally 
he  apologized  for  wrapping  his  "  Ancient"  in  a  mist,  but  "  lago" 
did  not  allow  his  desire  for  repose  to  interfere  with  his  compa- 
nion's endeavor  to  rid  himself  of  his  affliction,  although  in  his 
heart,  he  cursed  the  unfortunate  hour  in  which  Hamblin  con- 
tracted the  asthma. 

Hamblin,  at  last,  concluded  to  adopt  another  remedy,  and 
called  for  gin  and  water,  in  the  hope  of  getting  to  sleep,  but  un- 
fortunately, or  rather  perhaps  fortunately,  Booth  never  allowed 
any  alcohol  to  be  used  at  his  farm. 

Mr.  Booth  at  home,  and  Mr.. Booth, abroad,  were  two  different 


94  .   THE  actor; 

personages.  When  under  the  excitement  of  playing,  or  at  the 
social  board,  he  was  tempted  to  indulge  in  that  stimulus  in  which 
men  are  too  apt  to  endeavor  to  drown  their  cares,  but  whichd 
generally,  results  in  depriving  them  of  their  wits.  ( 

When  at  home,  he  was  temperate,  frugal  and  industrious,  and| 
scrupulously  particular  in  his  habits  and  method  of  living.  He 
practised  all  the  manual  exercises  of  the  husbandman,  ploughing, 
harrowing,  sowing  seed,  and  carrying  his  vegetables  to  market 
in  a  wagon,  drawn  by  his  favorite  "  Peacock,"  and  disposing  of 
his  stock  to  the  best  advantage.  He  was  known  for  miles  around 
the  neighborhood  as  "  Farmer  Booth,"  and  "  Peacock"  was  equally 
familiar  to  the  people  in  the  vicinity,  and  in  the  Baltimore 
market. 

There  are  many  amusing  anecdotes  afloat,  relative  to  this  four! 
footed  "  Peacock ;"  among  others,  that  Flynn  rode  him  into  towa! 
from  the  farm,  and  not  being  acquainted  with  his  peculiarities, 
was  subjected  to  a  great  variety  of  sportive  tricks,  and  created  as 
much  sensation  upon  entering  Baltimore  as  did  the  famous  "  John 
Gilpin,"  in  his  ride  through  Islington.  "  Peacock"  being  at- 
tached to  the  market  and  its  vicinity,  kept  on  the  "  even  tenor  of 
his  way,"  in  spite  of  whip  and  rein,  and  poor  Flynn  was  forced 
to  be  "  in  the  market,"  although  at  the  same  time  he  had  an 
"  engagement"  elsewhere.  Booth,  in  adopting  this  system  of 
dividing  his  time  between  literary  occupations  and  corporeal 
labor,  was  enabled  to  preserve  his  health,  and  even  now,  in  the 
"  sear  and  yellow  leaf"  of  his  accumulated  years,  manifests 
much  of  the  spirit  and  energy  of  his  younger  days. 

After  carrying  his  produce  to  market,  a  distance  of  twenty- 
three  miles,  he  would  often  play  Richard  in  Baltimore,  where  he 
kept  his  wardrobe,  in  case  he  desired  to  use  it. 

But  we  return  to  the  farm,  where,  the  morning  following  the 
arrival  of  the  players,  was  presented  a  most  picturesque  tableau. 

It  was  a  new  comedy  with  an  old  title,  "  Town  and  Ck)untry," 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  95 

or,  "  Which  is  Best  ?"  There  was  "  Reuben  Glenroy"  himself, 
who  seemed  to  enjoy  the  scene,  and  being  familiar  with  the  vicis- 
situdes of  life,  smiled  to  witness  the  effects  that  had  been  produced 
on  a  corps  of  the  "  sock  and  buskin,"  by  a  stage  accident. 

There  was  the  light  comedian,  who  thought  it  too  dark  to  rise 
from  his  slumbers  ;  the  heavy  tragedian,  weighing  m  his  mind  the 
feasibility  of  vacating  his  bed;  there  was  "Justice  Greedy," 
with  "  fair  round  belly,"  ruminating  over  the  anticipations  of  a 
breakfast,  and  Nosey  "  Marrall,"  disturbing  the  harmony  of  the 
scene,  by  his  nasal  music  ;  there  stood  "  Macbeth,"  washing  out  his 
throat,  which  had  become  parched  from  excessive  smoking ;  there 
was  the  "  Grave-digger,"  zealously  laboring  to  dig  the  beard  from 
his  chin  with  an  edgeless  razor,  while  in  the  midst  of  this  group 
three  or  four  slaves  might  have  been  discovered  looking  for  uten- 
sils to  provide  breakfast. 

The  morning  passed  away  pleasantly  enough,  a  good  breakfast 
having  restored  the  equanimity  of  the  company. 

"  Why,  Booth,"  said  Hamblin,  "  how  do  you  manage  to  kill 
the  time,  without  company  ?     You  must  be  solitary  here." 

"1  am  never  without  company,"  said  Booth.  "I  am  sur- 
rounded by  congenial  spirits ;  I  converse  and  hold  counsel  with 
the  great  and  good  of  all  ages.  Look — ^there  are  Shelley,  and 
Byron,  and  Wordsworth  ;  here  are  '  rare  Ben  Jonson,'  Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher,  and  Shakspere  and  Milton  ;  with  them,  time 
never  wearies,  and  the  eloquent  teachings  that  fall  from  their 
leaves,  are  counsellors  and  guides.  These  are  my  companions," 
said  Booth,  triumphantly  pointing  to  his  library  and  his  "  old  arm- 
chair," "  and  I  am  never  less  alone,  than  when  alone." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  company  all  proceeded  to  Baltimore, 
and  thence  to  Richmond,  where  they  opened  to  a  tremendous 
house,  Hamblin  receiving  a  clear  one  half  of  each  night's  re- 
ceipts. 

On  the  fourth  night.  Booth  was  announced  to  appear  in  his 


98  THE    ACTOR  ; 

great  character  of  Fescara,  in  Shell's  play  of  the  "  Apostate," 
which  the  reader  will  recollect  was  written  expressly  for  him, 
and  which  he  had  declined  playing  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 

The  piece  is  founded  upon  the  revolt  of  the  Moors  against 
Philip  the  Second,  but  it  is  entirely  too  melo-dramatic  in  its  cast, 
to  be  dignified  with  the  appellation  of  "  tragedy,"  considered  in 
the  signification  in  which  the  term  is  generally  used  ;  yet  the  play 
is  full  of  incident,  and  abounds  with  passages  of  great  beauty . 

The  principal  feature  of  the  drama  is  a  reciprocated  attachment 
between  Hemeya,  a  descendant  of  a  Moorish  King,  and  Florinda, 
a  Spanish  maiden,  the  daughter  of  Count  Alvarez,  who,  alike  with 
his  countrymen,  detests  even  the  name  of  Moor. 

In  the  first  act,  the  palace  of  Alvarez  is  discovered  in  flames, 
and  the  father,  in  the  frenzy  of  his  fear,  swears  to  give  his  daugh- 
ter's hand  to  whomsoever  shall  bear  her  to  him  in  safety.  This, 
in  the  meantime,  Hemeya  successfully  accomplishes.  While  the 
lovers  are  exchanging  vows  of  congratulation  and  endearment, 
Fescara,  Governor  of  Granada,  who  has  been  nursed  amid  the 
horrors  of  the  Inquisition,  and  who  had  long  since  sought  the 
hand  of  Florinda,  makes  his  entrance.  This  scene  is  highly  dra- 
matic. The  lovers  are  in  the  act  of  embracing,  and  Hemeya 
says : — 

*    «    *    *    « Thou  fair  creature, 
Who  now  shall  part  us  ?'* 

"  /,"  says  Fescara,  whose  appearance  (when  Booth  was  the 
representative),  at  the  moment  of  entrance,  was  a  study  for  an 
artist. 

The  dark  and  ferocious  look — the  crafty,  stealthy  bearing, 
heightened  by  the  Spanish  dress,  were  in  admirable  keeping  with 
the  character. 

After  a  short  dialogue  with  Alvarez,  he  draws  a  roll  of  parch- 
ment from  his  bosom,  and  says  to  Hemeya  : — 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  97 

**  Here,  Moor,  within  thy  grasp  I  plant  a  serpent, 
And,  as  it  stings,  think  'tis  Pescara's  answer — 
This  very  night  it  reach'd  me  from  Madrid, 
And  thou  art  first  to  hear  it ;  look  you  here ; 
If  Caucasus  were  heap'd  between  you  both, 
With  all  his  snows,— his  snows  have  not  the  pow'r 
To  freeze  your  amorous  passion  half  so  soon 
As  Philip's  will.     Farewell— but  not  for  ever  !" 

The  dark  and  sinister  look  that  he  casts  on  the  lovers,  as  he 
pronounces  the  words  "  Farewell,  but  not  for  ever !"  is  almost 
prophetic  of  what  is  to  follow. 

Pescara  has  the  authority  of  Philip,  and  no  alternative  is  left 
Hemeya  but  to  renounce  his  creed  and  become  a  Christian,  or 
to  abandon  the  maiden. 

The  second  act  discovers  Malec  (in  whose  care  the  dying 
father  of  Hemeya  placed  him)  just  returned  from  Granada,  He 
urges  his  protege  to  renounce  the  girl,  maintain  his  faith,  head  the 
Moors,  and  free  his  countrymen.  When  almost  decided  to  com- 
ply, Florinda  appears,  and  love  triumphing  over  patriotism  (as  it 
does  over  every  other  passion),  Hemeya  renounces  Mahomet  and 
becomes  a  Christian. 

Florinda,  while  felicitating  herself  on  the  event,  discovers  the 
inquisitors,  headed  by  Pescara.  A  dialogue  ensues  between 
them,  in  which  he  recounts  a  dream.  Mr.  Booth's  recital  of  this 
was  "  express  and  admirable." 

The  peculiar  beauties  of  his  acting  in  the  "  Apostate,"  were 
his  masterly  powers  of  gesticulation  and  emphasis,  which,  in  his 
representation  of  Pescara,  shone  in  most  perfect  splendor. 

The  description  of  his  dream  to  Florinda  was  at  once  fearful 
and  sublime.  The  imagination  was  awakened  to  the  very  acme 
of  its  power,  when,  with  the  mighty  magic  of  his  art,  he  relates 
the  fearful  vision  : — 

5 


98  THE   AGTOR  } 

********     "Onmycoucif 
Last  night,  I  long  lay  sleepless  ;  I  revolved 
The  scorns,  the  contumelies  I  have  suffered. 
But  will  not  brook  ;  at  last,  sleep  closed  my  eyelids';. 
And  then  methought  I  saw  the  am'rous  Moor 
In  all  the  transports  of  exulting  passion. 
And  I  stood  by^  chained  to  a  fiery  pillar. 
Condemned  to  gaze  for  ever  ;  white  two  fiends- 
Did  grin*  and  mow  upon  me. 
Senseless  I  fell  with  rage.     As  thus  I  lay,. 
From  forth  the  yawning  earth  a  figure  rosie. 
Whose  stature  reach*d  to  heaven  ;  his  robes  appear* cl 
Woven  out  of  solid  fire  ! — around  his  head 
A  serpent  twined  his  huge,  gigantic  folds-; 
And  on  his  front,  in  burning  characters. 
Was  written  *  Vengeance  I'  " 

Mr.  Booth's  recital  of  this  dream  no  language  can  properly  de- 
scribe. The  "yawning  earth"  indeed  seemed,  to  our  imagina- 
tion, before  him,,  and  the  "  huge  gigantic  form,"  slowly  rising 
to  heaven,  was  almost  palpable  to  our  "  mind's  eye." 

It  was  one  of  the  charms  of  his  acting,  that  he  was  so  "  terribly 
in  earnest,"  he  imparted  the  same  feeling  to  the  audience. 

The  sudden  transition  from  impetuous  rage^to  the  subdued  and 
"  still  small  voice"  of  withering  sarcasm,  was  unapproachable. 

In  the  third  act,  Malee  is  condemned  to  die  for  treason,  and  an 
interesting  scene  occurs  where  Pescara  taunts  the  Moor  for  his 
apostasy.  Mr^  Booth,  in  this  act,  was  the  personification  of  a 
fiend.     How  admirably  did  he  read  these  lines  : 

"  I  tell  thee,  music  ;  thou  shalt  have  th€  groans 
Of  grey-hair'd  Malec  ringing  in  thine  ears  ! — 
The  crackling  flames  in  which  he  perishes 
Shall  hiss  upon  thee  when  thou  art  softly  laid 
Within  the  bosom  of  the  amorous  feir  V* 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  99 

and  the  cool,  unmitigated  contempt,  as  he  measures  the  "  apostate 
Moor,"  and  the  look  of  withering  scorn  with  which  he  regards 
Hemeya : — 

"  Nay,  put  thy  sword  within  its  sheath  again — 
Granada's  governor  will  never  stoop 
Down  to  thy  wretched  level !" 

In  the  last  act,  the  Moors  are  triumphant,  Pescara  slain,  and 
the  dramatis  personce  arranged  according  to  the  most  approved 
method  of  poetical  justice. 

We  have  not  attempted  to  give  the  plot  entire,  but  merely  to 
illustrate  the  character  of  Pescara,  believing  Mr.  Booth's  repre- 
sentation of  it  as  faultless  a  performance  as  was  ever  exhibited 
on  the  stage.  Indeed,  were  we  disposed  to  be  hypercritical,  we 
should  be  at  a  loss  to  know  where  he  was  not  perfect.  His  dark 
eye  glared  with  an  almost  unearthly  ferocity — his  tread  was  firm 
and  determined — his  voice  clear,  sonorous  and  energetic,  and  his 
gesticulation,  graceful  and  appropriate. 

We  will  hazard  the  opinion  that  no  one  who  ever  saw  Booth's 
Pescara,  when  the  actor  was  "  in  the  vein"  for  playing,  has  for- 
gotten it.     It  was  nature  itself. 

As  we  have  already  remarked,  on  the  fourth  night  of  the  en- 
gagement at  Richmond,  he  was  to  appear  as  Pescara,  On  the 
morning  previous,  he  received  a  letter  announcing  the  sickness 
of  his  child. 

Booth,  being  devotedly  attached  to  his  family,  immediately  re- 
turned to  his  farm,  giving  no  intimation  either  of  the  contents  of 
the  letter  or  of  his  intentions.  Money,  solicitations,  engagements, 
or  anything  else  would  have  had  no  effect  in  inducing  the  trage- 
dian to  remain  when  there  was  sickness  at  home. 

After  Booth  was  gone,  the  magnet  of  attraction  was  wanting, 
and  the  engagement  fell  to  the  ground. 


m  100 


CHAPTER  XL 

Mr.  Hamblin's  return  to  New  York— Special  embassy  to  Booth— Engage- 
ment with  Duffy—- Booth's  opening  night  in  New  York— A  month's  per- , 
formance  alternately  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia — Representation  of: 
"  Oroonoko  "—Booth's  threat  from  the  stage — Flynn's  visit  to  Bel- Air 
— Booth  at  his  farm — Dialogue  between  Booth  and  Flynn — Arrival  in| 
New  York— Booth's  performance— His  Richard  the  Third — His  return  • 
to  the  farm. 

i- 
■  t 

After  the  sudden  termination  of  the  Richmond  adventure,  Ham-<i 
blin  returned  to  New  York,  annoyed  and  disappointed  by  Booth's 
procedure.  Here  he  remained  superintending  the  affairs  of  his 
theatre,  under  the  control  of  his  stage-manager,  Mr.  Flynn,  who 
was  conducting  the  establishment  in  a  prosperous  manner,  which 
made  amends  to  Hamblin  for  his  other  unprofitable  speculations. 

It  was  now  proposed  by  Hamblin  that  Flynn  should  go  to 
Maryland  and  bring  Booth,  offering  to  cancel  his  engagement, 
provided  he  could  induce  him  to  play  three  nights  a  week  for  a 
period  of  three  months,  conscious  that  Flynn  was  the  only  person 
who  could  induce  him  to  accede  to  the  proposition. 

Flynn  left  for  Bel- Air,  and  after  spending  two  days  at  the 
farm,  prevailed  upon  Booth  to  accept  Hamblin's  offer.  They 
accordingly  started  in  company,  and  in  passing  through  Phila- 
delphia they  encountered  Mr.  Duffy,  then  manager  of  the  Arch 
Street  Theatre,  in  conjunction  with  Forrest  and  Jones. 

Mr.  Duffy  offered  Booth  one  hundred  dollars  a  night  for  his 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CUR^AiK.^  ',:..>>'     '    l^i^ 

services  during  the  "  off  nights  "  that  he  did  not  play  in  New 
York,  which  the  latter  accepted.  The  engagement  was  drawn 
up  and  signed  on  board  the  steamer,  just  before  she  started. 

Booth  and  Flynn  arrived  in  New  York,  and  the  former  opened 
at  the  Bowery  Theatre  in  Richard  the  Third,  to  a  house  which 
yielded  thirteen  hundred  dollars. 

After  the  evening's  performances,  Hamblin  ascertained  that 
Booth  had  agreed  to  play  the  off  nights  at  the  Arch  Street 
Theatre,  in  Philadelphia,  and  proposed  to  Flynn  that  he  should 
accompany  him  to  and  fro  between  the  two  cities,  or  he  would 
never  fulfil  the  engagement ;  nor  is  it  probable  that  he  would 
have  done  so  unless  some  such  measure  had  been  resorted  to. 
This  arrangement  being  concluded.  Booth  played  every  night 
alternately  in  New  York  and  Philadelphia,  for  a  period  of  a 
month,  at  a  time  when  the  travel  was  much  more  tedious  than 
at  present,  the  stage-coach,  "  dragging  its  slow  length  along,^^ 
being  now  superseded  by  the  swift  and  fiery  rail  car. 

The  last  night  of  his  engagement,  the  play  of  "  Oroonoko  "* 
was  performed,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  Booth,  it  being  a 
character  that  he  disliked  to  play.  Having  hurried  carelessly 
through  it,  and  betraying  no  interest  or  feeling  in  the  part,  in  his 
death  scene  there  was  a  slight  symptom  of  disapprobation  mani- 
fested by  the  audience.  Whether  it  arose  from  the  play,  or 
from  Booth's  indifferent  performance,  we  are  unable  to  say,  but 
after  killing  himself  (in  a  theatrical  sense,  and  according  to  po- 
etical justice),  he  arose,  walked  to  the  foot  lights,  and  looking 


*  A  ludicrous  incident  is  related  by  the  biographer  of  the  celebrated 
Barton  Booth  (who  flourished  in  the  seventeenth  century),  in  the  same 
character  (Oroonoko).  Happening  to  wipe  his  face  as  he  entered  on  the  stage, 
he  appeared  with  a  pie-bald  countenance,  which  set  all  the  audience 
laughing,  till  he  discovered  and  rectified  the  error. 


t6Q'      ''<.,:  ;^  ^r* A «*     '       THE   ACTOR  ; 

the  audience  full  in  the  face,  exclaimed : — "  Pll  sell  you   as 
General  Jackson  did ;  I'll  veto  you  !"* 

During  one  of  Bootli's  engagements  at  the  Bowery,  he  had 
promised  Flynn  to  play  for  his  benefit,  and  as  the  time  approached , 
when  the  performance  was  to  take  place  according  to  announce- ! 
ment,  being  fearful  that  the  tragedian's  memory  might  prove 
treacherous,  Flynn  started  for  Bel-Air,  where  Booth  found  an 
agreeable  place  of  retirement  after  his  laborious  efforts  at  the 
theatre. 

He  not  only  superintended  the  management  of  his  farm,  but 
"  drove  his  team  afield,"  like  any  other  practical  farmer. 

It  must  have  been  a  novel  sight  to  see  the  great  tragedian  dis- 
posing of  his  turnips  and  cabbages  in  market,  for  such  it  was  ; 
his  custom  to  do.  When  he  was  unsuccessful  in  selling  them 
at  a  very  considerable  profit,  he  not  unfrequently  gave  them 
away.  At  other  times  the  height  of  his  ambition  seems  to  have 
been  to  sell  out  his  stock,  regardless  of  consequences. 

A  friend  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the  tragedian, 
informed  us  that  Booth  was  engaged  to  play  Richard  one  Satur- 
day evening,  in  Baltimore,  but  that  neither  threats  nor  solicita- 
tions could  induce  him  to  go  to  the  theatre  until  he  had  made  a 
satisfactory  disposition  of  his  vegetables.  The  consequence  was, 
that  the  manager  was  compelled  to  send  a  purchaser,  by  which 
means  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  his  services. 

Philosophy  might  speculate  upon  the  causes  that  would  induce 
a  man  to  risk  the  receipt  of  several  hundred  dollars,  rather  than 
not  realize  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  a  few  baskets  of  vegeta- 
bles, but  it  would  be  a  fruitless  effort  to  endeavor  to  solve  the 
mysteries  of  Booth's  eccentricities. 

♦  This  was  about  the  period  when  the  political  papers  discussed  the  pro- 
priety of  General  Jackson*s  Veto  Messages,  which  he  issued  in  great 
abundance. 


on,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CORTAIN.  103 

After  reaching  Booth's  residence,  Flynn  approached  the  house, 
and  discovering,  as  he  thought,  a  boy  digging  a  potatoe  patch,  he 
addressed  him  accordingly  : 

'*  Holloa,  boy  !  where's  Mr.  Booth  ?" 

"  Here,  at  your  service,"  said  the  representative  of  Richard, 
looking  up.     "  What  the  deuce  has  brought  you  here  ?" 

"  Why,  Booth,  don't  you  recollect  that  you  promised  to  play 
for  my  benefit  ?" 

^'  Did  I  ?  very  well ;  come  into  the  house. '^ 

Booth  changed  his  clothes,  and  ten  minutes  after,  they  were  on 
the  road  to  New  York. 

They  arrived  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  and  at  night, 
Booth  appeared  as  Richard  the  Third, 

At  an  early  hour,  the  house  was  not  only  crowded  from  pit  to 
dome,  but  the  corners  of  the  stage  were  occupied  by  boys,  who, 
not  finding  accommodations  in  the  pit,  which  was  already  filled 
to  overflowing,  boldly  monopolized  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
establishment,  not  set  apart  for  the  audience.  Indeed,  the  num- 
ber of  young  gentlemen  who  made  their  "  first  appearance  on 
any  stage,"  on  that  occasion,  was  not  inconsiderable. 

Up  went  the  curtain,  and  on  came  the  "  crook'd  back  tyrant," 
his  hands  and  face  reddened  by  exposure  to  the  sun,  and  health 
a«d  vigor  apparent  in  every  movement.  We  never  saw  him  to 
better  advantage.  There  was  a  firmness  and  dignity  in  his  tread, 
a  brilliancy  in  his  eye  and  a  manliness  in  the  tones  of  his  voice, 
worthy  of  his  palmiest  days. 

In  the  whole  range  of  the  oxjted  drama,  there  is  no  character 
which  requires  such  a  constant  exercise  of  the  physical  powers, 
as  that  of  Shakspere's  Richard.  All  the  sterner  passions  that 
harbor  in  the  breast  of  man  are  introduced,  and  nothing  but 
genius  can  delineate  the  many  and  varied  phases  of  Gloster's 
character.     Every  other  individual  is  subordinate  to  Richard, 


104  THE    ACTOK;        :  ,:,   , 

who,  through  nearly  every  scene  of  the  five  acts,  is  before  the 
audience.     No  time  is  left  for  the  repose  of  the  actor  ;  conse- 
quently, the  majority  of  its  representatives   reserve  their  pow- 
ers for  the  last  acts.     Indeed,  justice  requires  that  we  should 
confess  that  Mr.  Booth,  during  the  latter  part  of  his  career,  has , 
not  been  guiltless  of  the  same  custom  on  all  occasions,  but  if  h^'j 
was  often  careless  in  the  early  scenes,  he  redeemed  the  whole  in  I 
the  closing  acts  of  the  play.     Mr.  Booth,  however,  ere  he  had  ii 
fallen  into  the  "  sere  and  yellow  leaf,"  was  gifted   with  extra- 
ordinary physical  strength,  bis  voice  being  as  clear  and  unfalter- 
ing at  the  end  of  the  play  as  at  its  commencement. 

On  the  occasion  of  Flynn's  benefit,  he  seemed  determined  to 
surpass  himself.     With  mind  and  body  renovated  by  fresh  air 
and  manly  exercise,  with  a  house  thronged  with  spectators  and  1 
cheered  by  the  vociferous  cries  of  an   enthusiastic  audience,  he  • 
went  to  the  performance  as  though  he  found  a  positive  pleasure 
in  acting.  | 

As  the  play  proceeded,  he  seemed  to  gather  renewed  strength*  1 
Admirable  was  the  opening  soliloquy,  and  beautiful  the  scene  | 
with  Lady  Anne.     His  ruminations  previous  to  the  murder  of:! 
the  princes,  his  interview  with  Buckingham,  his  glowing  aspira- 
tions for  the  crown,  his  measureless  ambition,  his  determined  and 
inflexible  spirit,  were  all  given  with  a  fidelity  and  truth  to  nature 
never  surpassed. 

Notwithstanding  Booth's  diminutive  figure,  it  needed  but  ai 
glance  of  the  spectator,  to  individualize  the  man.     A  stranger 
who  had  never  seen  him,  would   have  had  no  difficulty  in  sepa- 
rating him   from  the  nonentities  (for  such  they  appeared  to  be) 
who  surrounded  him. 

In  Richard,  his  small  person  seemed  to  expand,  and  the  genius ; 
of  the  man   betrayed  itself  in  every  look  and  gesture.     With 
reckless  indifference,  he  makes  his  way  to  his  blood- cemented 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  105 

crown,  crushing  obstacles  and  commanding  circumstances,  until 
the  mind  of  the  spectator  almost  imagines  that  he  is  aided  by- 
some  supernal  power,  in  the  career  of  his  wild  and  romantic 
ambition. 

Even  death  has  no  terrors  for  the  guilty  monarch ;  and  when 
Richard's  life  is  closed  by  the  desperate  encounter  with  Rich- 
mond, the  audience  regard  the  issue  of  the  combat  as  an  unna- 
tural result.  His  fierceness  and  determination,  his  lion-heart, 
that  laughs  to  scorn  all  idea  of  danger,  the  savage  fury  with 
which  he  attacks  Richmond,  all  seem  to  tend  towards  his  triumph, 
and  even  in  his  last  agonies  he  cries : — 

"  The  vast  renown  thou  hast  acquired 


In  conquering  Richard,  does  afflict  him  more 
Than  e'en  his  body's  parting  with  his  soul." 

One  of  the  proudest  triumphs  of  Booth's  genius  was  in  the  tent 
scene.  From  his  couch,  where  he  had  been  writhing  in  the 
agony  of  his  dreams  from  the  terror  which  the  palpable  images 
of  those  whom  he  had  murdered  inspired,  he  rushed  forward  to 
the  footlights,  his  face  of  the  ashy  hue  of  death,  his  limbs  trem- 
bling, his  eyes  rolling  and  gleaming  with  an  unearthly  glare, 
and  his  whole  face  and  form  convulsed  with  intense  excitement. 

It  was  the  very  acme  of  acting,  if  such  it  can  be  called,  and 
the  death-like  silence  of  the  audience  was  a  higher  compliment 
to  the  actor,  than  the  long  and  thundering  plaudits  that  followed 
the  performance. 

The  fight  with  Richmond,  the  death  grapple,  the  syncope, 
were  all  the  counterpart  of  nature,  and  the  curtain  fell  on  Rich- 
ard, who,  refusing  even  the  expenses  of  his  tour,  returned  to  his 
farm  to  complete  his  potato  patch. 


5'^ 


106 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Booth's  Occasional  Performances  at  the  Bowery— Mr.  Hamblin's  Dinner 
Party— Jack  Reeve— Placide—Hackett—Flynn — Hamblin — Booth — Some 
Account  of  their  Sayings  and  Doings — Hamblin's  Remarks — Jack  Reeve's 
Observations— Booth's  Apology  and  Flynn's  Rejoinder — Placide's  Ac- 
knowledgments— Adjournment  to  the  Theatre — Othello  made  darker — 
Booth's  Sudden  Disappearance — Flynn's  Apology  to  the  Audience — His 
Pursuit  of  Booth — Discovery  of  the  Tragedian's  Retreat — Peculiar 
Method  of  Satisfying  the  Public — Booth  as  Sir  Giles  Overreach — Per- 
formance of  "  Julius  Caesar  "—New  Reading  of  Brutus — The  Effects 
of  Snuff— A  Farcical  Tragedy — Booth's  Departure  for  New  Orleans. 

For  a  period  of  two  years,  Booth  remained  at  his  farm,  with  the 
exception  of  an  occasional  professional  visit  to  New  York,  Phila- 
delphia or  Boston ;  and  whenever  Hamblin  was  engaged  in  the 
production  of  a  new  piece  and  desired  an  attraction  while  it  was 
in  a  state  of  preparation,  he  invariably  sent  Flynn  to  Bel- Air  to 
bring  on  Booth,  who  always  drew  large  audiences,  and  received 
a  hundred  dollars  for  each  performance. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  he  was  announced  for  lago,  to 
Hamblin's  Othello,  The  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Hamblin 
gave  a  dinner  party  at  his  house,  which  proved  to  be  a  very 
recherche  affair. 

Among  the  guests  were  several  distinguished  members  of  the 
"  sock  and  buskin."  There  was  poor  Jack  Reeve,  with  his 
"  quips  and  cranks  "  that  "  set  the  table  in  a  roar,"  and  whose 
jolly,  bacchanalian  face  formed  an  admirable  contrast  to  that  of 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  107 

the  dignified  and  gentlemanly  countenance  of  Mr.  Henry  Plaoide, 
alias  "  Sir  Harcourt  Courtly/'  a  character,  by  the  way,  that  is 
"  his  own  "  literally  ;  the  quick-witted  Hackett,  as  sparkling  and 
full  of  life  as  an  uncorked  bottle  of  champaigne ;  Flynn,  with 
his  undiminished  fountain  of  mirth,  and  looking  the  "Ancient "  to 
his  majestic  and  classically-headed  friend  Hamblin,  who  never 
had  a  better  "  foil  to  set  him  off."  What  a  pity  they  ever  sepa- 
rated !  Well  might  Hsimblin  have  said,  when  he  parted  with 
Flynn — 

"  Fortune  and  Antony  part  here.'* 

Had  they  remained  with  each  other,  one  would  not  now  have 
been  a  dead  letter  in  the  theatrical  world,  and  the  other  a  strolling 
"  Temperance  "  lecturer  ! 

And  there  sat  Booth,  more  like  "  a  looker-on  in  Venice,"  than 
a  participator  in  the  scene,  but  doing  justice  to  the  subject  of 
"  internal  improvement,"  and  in  spite  of  the  new  doctrine  of  "  re- 
pudiation," liquidating  to  a  large  extent. 

The  cloth  being  removed,  Hackett  proposed  the  health  of 
Hamblin,  who  returned  thanks  in  an  appropriate  speech ;  he 
"  felt  a  proud  satisfaction  in  seeing  congregated  at  his  table, 
gentlemen  whose  names  were  so  distinguished  in  the  theatrical 
world ;  the  occasion  would  long  be  remembered  with  pleasing 
associations,  and  he  trusted  his  friends  knew  him  too  well  to 
suspect  him  of  acting  on  such  an  occasion  ;  that  whatever  cha- 
racters he  enacted  on  the  stage,  that  of  the  *  host '  he  trusted  to 
perform,  at  home,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all,"  and  finally  drank 
"the  health  of  the  company." 

Flynn  then  proposed  "  the  health  of  John  Reeve,"  who  imme- 
diately dropt  his  brandy  and  water,  and  looking  very  grave  at 
the  company  (accompanied  with  one  of  his  peculiar  leers  and 
^inks  at  FJypn),  said,  that  "  he  was  aware  of  the  unmerited 


108  .     «  ,,      THE    ACTOR  ; 

honor  that  was  bestowed  upon  him  ;  that  he  had  no  intention  of 
making  a  speech,  but  to  propose  a  sentiment,  and  as  they  emptied 
their  glasses,  they  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  performing  their 
duty  to  the  country,  in  ridding  it  of  evil  spirits  ;  he  was  one  of  a 
committee  appointed  to  banish  brandy  from  the  land,  and  he  now 
called  upon  all  present,  except  the  placid  Placide,  whom  he 
observed  indulged  in  nothing  stronger  than  wine,  for  assistance, 
hoping  they  would  agree  with  the  sentiment  he  should  propose, 
which  was,  ^  Down  with  all  spirituous  liquors,'  "  and  "  down  with 
all  spirituous  liquors  "  echoed  around  the  table,  the  actors  follow- 
ing the  advice  of  Hamlet  in  suiting  "  the  action  to  the  word  and 
the  word  to  the  action." 

Booth  was  next  called  upon,  but  he  declined  making  a  speech  ; 
he  was  "  no  orator  as  Brutus  was ;"  "  he  would  leave  it  to  his 
friend  Flynn,  who  was  a  good  extemporaneous  speaker,  and 
whose  powers  of  invention  were  marvellous." 

Flynn  rose  and  "  denied  what  Booth  had  just  said  ;  he  knew 
that  his  friend  could  speak  if  he  felt  inclined ;  he  was  the  greatest 
tragedian  in  the  world,  and  his  friend  Hamblin  the  greatest 
manager  ;  the  Bowery  Theatre  was  the  greatest  establishment  in 
the  universe,  and  all  the  talent  in  the  globe  was  concentrated 
there  ;  it  was  characterized  for  its  liberal  remuneration  to 
talent,  and  for  the  promptness  of  its  payments ;  being  con- 
nected with  Mr.  Hamblin,  of  course  he  could  not  say  so  much  in 
its  favor  as  he  desired  to  do,  and  he  would  therefore  close  his 
remarks  by  proposing  *  the  health  of  Mr.  Placide.'  " 

Mr.  Placide  made  his  acknowledgments,  and  took  occasion  to 
find  fault  with  everything  connected  with  theatres,  managers, 
actors,  and  audiences ;  complimented  Mr.  Hamblin  on  the  taste 
and  good  feeling  he  had  manifested,  and  sat  down  amidst  the  ap- 
plause of  the  company. 

But  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  a  description  of  all  the 
sayings   and  doings   of  the  occasion;    let  it    suffice    that  the 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  109 

hours  passed  away  amidst  "  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of 
soul,"  with  song  and  sentiment,  until  Mr.  Flynn  hinted  to  "  lago  " 
(Booth),  the  important  fact  that  the  hour  of  performance  was  ap- 
proaching, and  that  some  preparation  was  necessary. 

The  party  accordingly  adjourned,  Hamblin  and  Booth  behind 
the  scene,  to  dress,  and  Hackett  and  Reeve  to  a  private  box,  to 
witness  the  performance. 

Flynn,  upon  going  into  Hamblin's  dressing-room,  found  the 
lago  of  the  evening  employed  in  blacking  his  Moor-ship ;  he 
seemed  to  be  performing  the  operation  very  effectually,  with  the 
apparent  determination  of  leaving  an  indelible  impression  upon 
his  friend's  neck  and  face,  and  totally  forgetting  his  own  prepara- 
tion for  "  lago.'' 

Hamblin,  turning  around  suddenly,  asked  Booth  why  he  did 
not  go  and  dress  for  his  part. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Booth,  "  I  forgot  that  I  had  to  play  to-night. 
Come,  Flynn,  I  wish  to  speak  to  you." 

Flynn  accompanied  him  to  the  stage  door  of  the  theatre,  when 
Booth  said,  "  Now,  Flynn,  you  must  get  another  lago — I'm  off," 
and  he  kept  his  word,  and  disappeared.  While  this  scene  was 
transpiring  behind  the  curtain,  in  front  the  house  was  rapidly 
filling  with  spectators,  who  had  assembled  to  witness  Hamblin 
and  Booth  in  "  Othello,"  and  were  vociferous  in  the  endeavor  to 
have  the  curtain  ascend. 

Flynn  held  a  consultation  with  the  manager,  and  acquainted 
him  with  the  fact  of  Booth's  departure. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  Where  was  to  be  found  a  substitute 
for  lago,  and  who  was  to  make  the  apology  ?  Flynn  proposed 
to  play  it  himself,  having  formerly  enacted  the  character  with 
considerable  success,  but  the  Bowery  audience  having  always 
seen  Flynn  in  comedy,  Hamblin  concluded,  and  justly,  that  the 
association  would  render  his  own  part  of  Othello  ridiculous,  and 
therefore  declined. 


110  THE  actor; 

It  was  finally  concluded  that  Mr.  John  Woodhull  should  play 
the  "  Ancient,"  and  Flyhn  be  deputed  to  address  the  audience, 
which  he  did.  Approaching  the  foot  lights  with  the  usual  ap- 
pendage, a  white  pocket-handkerchief,  in  his  hand,  he  said  : — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen  ;  I  am  sorry  to  appear  before  you  as 
an  apologist,  and  under  circumstances  so  unfortunate.  Mr. 
Booth  came  to  the  theatre  to  prepare  for  the  part  announced  in 
the  bills ;  he  remained  a  few  moments,  and  in  one  of  his  peculiar 
starts,  rushed  out  of  the  theatre,  followed  by  the  stage  door 
keeper,  was  pursued  as  far  as  the  Battery,  suddenly  disappeared, 
and  it  is  feared,  has  drowned  himself.  Under  events  so  unex- 
pected, and  so  much  to  be  deplored,  we  have  to  offer  in  the  way 
of  a  substitute,  Mr.  John  Woodhull.  Those  who  are  dissatisfied 
with  this  arrangement  can  have  their  money  returned  to  them  at 
the  door,  but  I  trust,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  you  will  extend 
towards  us  your  indulgence,  under  circumstances  which  it  was 
not  in  our  power  to  avoid." 

There  was  a  perfect  silence  throughout  the  house,  a  portion  of 
the  audience  believing  in  the  truth  of  the  statement,  and  the  resi- 
due somewhat  incredulous.  A  feeling  of  disappointment  was 
evinced,  however,  and  there  soon  became  a  rush  for  the  doors. 
About  three  hundred  dollars  were  returned  to  those  who  left, 
still  leaving  seven  hundred  and  fifty  in  the  treasury. 

The  performance  proceeded  without  interruption,  and  at  its 
close,  Flynn  went  in  search  of  Booth.  After  visiting  various 
places,  he  finally  discovered  him  at  a  public  house  adjoining  the 
Park  Theatre,  mounted  on  a  table  and  haranguing  in  a  bar- 
room, a  hundred  and  fifty  people,  relative  to  the  wants  and  dis- 
tresses of  the  inhabitants  of  Texas,  and  endeavoring  to  obtain 
volunteers  to  emigrate  thither. 

Hamblin,  mortified  and  disappointed  by  Mr*  Booth's  conduct, 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  Ill 

resolved  that  he  should  never  again  play  at  the  theatre,  but  being 
suddenly  overtaken  by  his  old  complaint,  the  asthma,  Flynn  in- 
serted an  advertisement  in  the  bills  of  the  day,  bearing  the  signa- 
ture of  "  J.  B.  Booth,"  making  an  ample  apology  for  his  disap- 
pearance, and  announced  him  for  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  a  few  days 
after. 

He  appeared,  accordingly,  to  a  house  crammed  to  suffocation. 
Instead  of  being  hissed  off  the  stage,  as  was  generally  anticipated, 
he  never  received  a  more  cordial  reception,  the  audience  reiterat- 
ing cheer  upon  cheer,  until  the  applause  became  almost  deafen- 
ing. He  played  for  seven  nights  afterwards,  to  houses  equally  as 
crowded,  and  thus  were  Texas  and  her  volunteers  the  means  of 
drawing  hundreds  of  dollars  into  the  treasury  of  the  Bowery 
Theatre,  and  of  gaining  for  Booth  a  higher  position  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  audience. 

During  this  engagement  of  Booth,  the  tragedy  of  "  Julius 
Caesar"  was  produced.  Booth  playing  Cassius. 

The  representative  of  Brutus  having  been  dining  with  some 
friends,  in  the  endeavor  to  drown  the  remembrance  of  some 
domestic  trouble,  had  taken  more  than  his  usual  quantity  of 
wine.  During  the  performance,  the  audience  perceiving  his 
situation,  manifested  some  disapprobation.  At  the  close  of  the 
first  act,  conscious  that  he  had  overstepped  the  bounds  of  pru- 
dence, he  asked  Booth  what  he  "  should  do  to  get  through  with 
his  part  V 

Booth,  in  a  spirit  of  mischief,  replied,  "  use  my  remedy." 

"  Hey  ?— what's  that  V  said  Brutus. 

"  Why,  get  some  vinegar  in  a  tea  cup,  put  some  snuff  in  it, 
mix  the  two  together,  pour  it  into  your  hand  and  inhale  it  through 
your  nose.'' 

Brutus,  not  dreaming  of  the  consequences  that  were  to  ensue, 
imbibed  a  sufficient  quantity  to  produce  a  fit  of  sneezing,  which 
he  found  it  difficult  to  overcome. 


112  THE  actor; 

After  entering  the  stage,  he  saluted  the  audience  with  a  sneeze, 
and  struggled  hard  to  smother  the  effects  of  the  snuff,  in  which 
he  succeeded,  until  the  attempt  was  visible  in  the  contortions  of 
his  face.     The  following  reply  to  Cassius  was  rendered  thus : — 


•  Cassius, 


Be  not  deceived ;  if  I  have  veil'd  my  look,  {sneeze  /) 

I  turn  the  trouble  of  my  countenance 

Merely  upon  myself ;  {sneeze  !)  vexed  I  am  {sneeze  /) 

Of  late,  with  passions  of  some  difference  {sneeze  !) 

Conceptions  only  proper  to  myself  {blast  that  snuff  f) 

Which  {sneeze!)  give  some  {sneeze  !)  soil  perhaps  to  my  behavior.'*' 

All  his  efforts  were  unavailing  to  check  the  effects  of  Booth's 
remedy,  which  proved  worse  than  the  disease,  and  the  "  noblest 
Roman  of  them  all"  was  taken  by  the  nose  in  the  most  unromantic 
manner. 

The  sneezing  operation,  like  that  of  yawning,  became  conta- 
gious, or  perhaps  the  visitors  of  the  Bowery  Theatre  were  "  up 
to  snuff,"  for  immediately  after  one  of  Brutus's  convulsions,  a 
prodigious  sneeze  echoed  from  the  audience.  What  rendered  the 
affair  still  more  ludicrous,  was,  that  the  representative  of  Brutus 
several  times  attempted  to  sneeze,  but  failing,  the  audience  did  it 
for  him,  and  then,  when  they  expected  the  actor  was  quiet,  he  ' 
would  give  a  final  one,  which  caused  the  whole  house  to  echo 
with  laughter ;  thus  was  the  tragedy  converted  into  one  of  the  i 
most  laughable  farces  ever  enacted  upon  the  stage.* 

From  New  York,  Booth  went  to  New  Orleans  and  Mobile, , 
where  his  whims  and  eccentricities  again  assumed  a  "  questiona- 
ble shape,"  and  there  we  leave  him  for  the  present,  under  the  I 
management  of  Mr.  Russell,  while  we  devote  a  few  pages  to  Mr. 
Hamblin. 

*  Mark  Antony  told  Booth  after  the  play,  that  he  thought  his  **  Cassius" 
was  a  performance  "  not  to  be  sneezed  at." 


113 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Birth  of  Mr.  Hamblin — First  appearance  on  the  Stage — Anecdote— Engage- 
ment at  Drury  Lane— His  representation  of  Hamlet — Engagement  at 
Bath — Incident  at  the  Brighton  Theatre — Dibut  in  America — Manage- 
ment of  the  Bowery  Theatre — His  difficulties  and  subsequent  Success- 
Destruction  of  the  Theatre — Benefit  at  the  National  Theatre — Poetical 
Address — Erection  of  the  Bowery  by  Dinneford — Mr.  Hamblin's  arrival 
in  London — Engagement  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre — Return  to  America 
—Mr.  Hamblin's  abilities  as  an  actor  Examined — Green-room  Incident 
— Hamblin's  Theatrical  Management — Jas.  Anderson — Concluding 
Remarks. 

Thomas  S.  Hamblin  was  born  in  White  Chapel,  in  the  city  of 
London,  on  the  14th  of  May,  1798,  and  made  his  first  appearance 
in  1815,  at  Sadler's  Wells,  in  the  recitation  of  RoUa^s  Address  to 
the  Peruvians,  taken  from  Sheridan's  Adaptation  of  "  Pizarro." 

In  the  year  1816,  he  made  his  debut  as  Trueman  in  "  George 
Barnwell,"  at  the  East  London  Theatre,  and  in  1817,  was  en- 
gaged at  Drury  Lane  to  play*  subordinate  characters. 

•  In  a  work  devoted  to  the  Drama,  published  at  about  this  period,  we 
find  the  following  : — 

*<  Theatrical  Murder. — Mr.  Hamblin  who  played  the  bravo  in  Soane's 
*  Dwarf  of  Naples,'  had  murdered  Imma,  in  the  progress  of  his  part,  while 
disguised  by  the  dress  of  a  page.  A  well  known  theatrical  character,  on 
the  occurrence  of  this  incident,  remarked  that,  *  it  was  lucky  that  Mr. 
Hamblin's  character  was  a  short  one,  or  else,  instead  of  murdering  one  page 
in  the  drama,  he  would  have  murdered  many  more,'  " 


114  THE  actor; 

Among  others,  we  find  him  announced  as  Carlos  in  "Isabella," 
Be  Wilton  in  "  Flodden  Field,"  and  Lewson  in  the  "  Gamester." 

The  sudden  illness  of  a  Mr.  Hicks,  who  was  announced  to  per- 
form Hamlet,  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  appearing  as  the 
"  Prince  of  Denmark,"  and  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  although 
having  previously  enacted  the  same  part  at  the  provincial  thea- 
tres, he  was  called  upon  "  at  a  very  short  notice,"  to  supply  his 
place. 

His  success,  however,  though  very  good,  was  not  extraordi- 
nary. 

He  afterwards  played  the  second  characters,  but,  like  the  ma- 
jority of  actors,*  desired  to  play  the^r^^ 

The  manager,  however,  not  entertaining  so  exalted  an  opinion  of 
his  merits  as  he  did  himself,  declined  acceding  to  his  wishes,  and 
the  result  was,  that  Hamblin  broke  through  his  engagement  and 
went  to  Bath,  where  he  played  the  principal  characters,  at  a  salary 
of  three  pounds  per  week,  which  was  afterwards  increased  to  ^ve^ 
he  having  proved  more  successful  than  the  manager  at  first  anti- 
cipated. 

During  one  of  his  engagements  at  Brighton,  on  the  occasion  of 
his  benefit,  he  was  announced  for  Richard  the  Third,  and  Rode^ 
rick  Dhu  in  the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  Mr.  Barry,  now  stage 
manager  of  the  Park  Theatre,  being  cast  for  Fitz  James,  and  Mr. 
Flynn,  now  the  temperance  advocate,  for  Malcolm. 

Having  no  copy  of  the  melo-drama,  the  piece  was  performed, 
Mr.  Hamblin  prompting  the  whole  company  from  memory. 

*  It  is  an  astonishing  fact  that  almost  every  actor  believes  himself  a 
second  Garrick,  and  capable  of  performing  any  character  either  in  tragedy 
or  comedy. 

We  have  encountered  a  great  many  performers  in  our  time,  and  we  never 
knew  one  "  stock  actor'*  who  did  not  believe  himself  slighted  by  the  stagQ 
manager,  in  the  distribution  of  characters. 


f 


OR,  A    PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  115 


From  Bath,  Mr.  Hamblin  proceeded  to  Dublin  and  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne. 

He  continued  several  years  in  these  and  the  neighboring  cities, 
and  in  1825  arrived  in  this  country  and  opened  at  the  Park  The- 
atre as  Hamlet,  with  considerable  eclat. 

After  playing  an  engagement,  he  visited  Boston,  Philadelphia, 
Charleston,  Augusta,  New  Orleans,  and  other  places  throughout 
the  Union,  and  was  well  received,  though  not  generally  admired. 
He  had,  however,  to  contend  against  the  impression  which  Kean, 
Cooper,  Booth,  and  Conway  had  already  made,  and  being  far  re- 
moved from  them  in  point  of  merit,  of  course  did  not  meet  with 
that  support  which  otherwise  would  have  attended  his  efforts. 

In  the  year  1830,  he  hired  the  Bowery  Theatre,  in  conjunction 
with  James  H.  Hackett,  and  during  the  first  month,  the  establish- 
ment drew  crowded  houses  nightly,  and  yielded  a  handsome  re- 
venue. 

Mr.  Hackett,  satisfied  to  follow  the  old  adage  of  <^  letting  well 
alone,"  retired  from  the  concern,  fearing  that  its  success  would 
only  be  commensurate  to  the  novelty  of  a  new  management. 

Hamblin  struggled  alone  for  some  years,  and  contracted  consi- 
derable debt,  but  in  the  summer  of  1835,  the  engagement  of  For- 
rest and  Celeste,  who  proved  very  attractive,  and  the  production 
of  several  spectacles,  among  which  was  the  ''  Last  Days  of  Pom- 
peii," that  cleared  him  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  "  Norman  Les- 
lie," that  yielded  nearly  six  thousand  dollars  receipts  the  first 
week,  enabled  him  to  rid  himself  of  his  embarrassments,  and  pur- 
chase the  theatre,"^  the  ground  being  mortgaged  to  Mr.  Astor  for 
more  than  its  value. 

*  The  Bowery  Theatre  was  first  opened  under  the  management  of  Charles 
Gilfert  in  1827,  and  burnt  to  the  ground  in  1829.  It  was  then  rebuilt  by 
the  late  Mr.  Henry  Astor,  and  again  burnt  in  1836,  while  under  the  charge 
of  Mr.  Hamblin.  It  was  then  rebuilt  by  Mr.  Dinneford,  and  burnt  again, 
for  the  third  time,  in  1838.     Again,  Phcenix-like,  a  new  building  sprang 


116  THE   ACTOR  ; 

On  the  16th  of  September,  1836,  the  building  wks  destroyed  by- 
fire,  and  Hamblin  lost  "  at  one  fell  swoop,"  sixty  thousand  dollars. 
Some  of  his  friends,  sympathizing  with  his  misfortune,  proposed 
a  benefit,  and  it  was  "  got  up  "  at  the  National  Theatre,  then 
under  the  management  of  Messrs.  Flynn  and  Willard. 

The  attraction  offered  on  the  occasion  was  worthy  of  the  cause. 
The  entertainments  consisted  of  Shakspere's  play  of  "  Henry  the 
Fourth,"  Mr.  Hamblin  playing  Hotspur  ;  Mr.  Hackett,  Falstaff ; 
Mr.  Barrett,  Prince  of  Wales;  Mr.  Flynn,  Poins ;  Messrs. 
Mitchell  and  Placide,  Carriers ;  and  Miss  Clifton,  Lady  Percy. 
This  was  followed  by  the  interlude  of  "  Three  Weeks  after  Mar- 
riage," with  Mr.  Dowton  as  Old  Drugget ;  Mr.  Barrett  as  Sir 
Charles  Rackett ;  and  Mrs.  Barrett  as  hady  Rackett :  after  which, 
the  lamented  Power  played  Dr,  O^ Toole  in  the  "Irish  Tutor," 
and  Mdlie  Celeste  Narramattah,  in  the  "  Wept  of  the  Wish-ton- 
Wish." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  Miss  Susan  Cushman  sang  Barry 
Cornwall's  song  of  "  The  Sea,"  and  Mrs.  Flynn  delivered  an  ad- 
dress, written  for  the  occasion  by  Mr.  James  Nack,  which  we 
insert,  not  only  as  a  literary  curiosity,  the  author  being  deaf  and 
dumb,  but  for  its  intrinsic  merit  as  a  composition : 

"ADDRESS. 

"  What  blaze  of  worth  and  beauty  meets  my  sight. 
Thronged  as  the  stars  that  fill  the  halls  of  night ! 
Hail,  bright  array  !  hail  to  the  hearts  sincere 
Whose  warm  and  generous  impulse  leads  you  here  ! 
In  other  years  a  youth  unknown  to  fame 
And  fortune,  o*er  the  world  of  waters  came, 

from  the  ashes  of  the  old  one,  under  Hamblin's  direction,  to  share  the  same 
fate  as  its  predecessors,  in  1845,  but  in  the  same  year  it  was  rebuilt  by 
Jackson,  opened  in  August,  and  is  now  in  successful  operation. 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CtTRTAIN*  117 

Unfriended,  battled  with  misfortune's  wave, 
And  stood  alone  the  storms  of  life  to  brave. 

But  ah  !  not  long  in  this  benignant  land 
Without  a  friend  is  merit  left  to  stand ; 
To  kindred  souls  its  magic  it  imparts. 
And  leads  the  stranger  to  your  heart  of  hearts. 

Cheered  by  your  smile,  in  your  applause  elate, 
He  rose  triumphant  o'er  the  storms  of  fate. 
Before  his  feet  the  tide  of  fortune  rolled, 
And  fame  en  wreathed  his  brow  with  purer  gold. 
Repaid  for  all  his  perils  overcome. 
He  found  his  best  of  homes  in  freedom's  home. 

Ambitious  still  your  loud  applause  to  own. 
With  every  gem  he  graced  the  drama's  throne  ; 
And  genius  hailed  you,  there,  as  to  her  shrine, 
To  wield  for  you  her  talisman  divine. 
The  world  to  centre  in  her  magic  ring 
And  worlds  unknown  before  the  vision  bring  ; 
Through  time  and  through  eternity  advance. 
Showing  their  wonders  on  a  moment's  glance, 
And  for  the  forms  created  by  her  wand 
Your  generous  spirit's  sympathy  command. 
When  calling  up  the  mysteries  of  the  soul. 
Where  passions  softly  glide  or  wildly  wM, 
Where  *  smiles  the  young  rose-lipp'd  cherub,'  love, 
Where  hatred  scowls,  or  vengeance  laughs  above 
Its  humbled  foe,  or  scorn  looks  withering  down. 
Or  anguish  writhes  beneath  oppression's  frown. 
Or  frenzy  raves,  or  rages  fierce  despair. 
Or  terror  starts  the  eye  and  thrills  the  hair. 

To  show  triumphant  in  the  war  of  fate, 
The  virtue  which  you  love  and  emulate, 
To  wither  guilt  by  your  indignant  flash. 
And  folly  by  your  smile  of  scorn  abash  ; 
Or  from  your  mind  unwelcome  care  to  steal 
And  o'er  it  bid  the  god  of  laughter  reel ; 
Or  softly  waft  the  melting  soul  along 
Upon  the  sweetly-gushing  tide  of  song. 


118  THE  Acton; 

While  sylphine  forms  meandering  in  the  dance ' 
Like  aerial  spirits  float  upon  the  glance. 

And  Hamblin's  self  sublime  before  you  trod 
In  form  and  bearing  like  the  poet*s  god, 
And  breathed,  inspired,  the  oracles  of  flame, 
That  from  the  sacred  sun  of  Shakspere  came. 
And  gave  to  sight  the  creatures  of  his  breath — 
The  pfincely  Dane,  the  moralist  of  death, 
Or  him  who  noblest  of  the  Romans  fell. 
Or  fated  Macbeth,  braving  earth  and  hell. 
Or  wronged  Othello,  o'er  whose  bursting  heart. 
He  bade  your  generous  tears  resistless  start. 

In  these  and  others  of  heroic  mien 
He  breathed  his  soul  upon  the  lofty  scene ; 
But  while  resplendent  in  his  sphere  he  shone, 
He  cherished  other  talents  than  his  own. 
With  liberal  heart,  and  hand  that  would  not  spare, 
On  merit  he  bestowed  his  fostering  care. 
Brought  native  genius  from  oblivion's  night. 
And  winged  to  glory's  sun  its  eagle  flight. 
But  lo  !  destruction  like  a  demon  came. 
And  smote  the  temple  with  his  wings  of  flame  ! 
The  toil  of  years  one  moment  overthrew. 
And  blasted  all  his  treasures— a//  but  you  ! 

Rich  in  your  favor,  strong  in  strength  of  soul, 
Superior  still,  he  wars  with  fate's  control. 
And  scarce  regrets  the  fortune  he  has  lost, 
Sinc%  it  approves  the  friends  he  yet  can  boast ; 
And  less  emotions  in  his  bosom  swell 
To  bid  that  fortune,  than  these  friends.  Farewell !" 


The  price  of  the  tickets  was  placed  at  two  dollars  each,  admit- 
ting the  bearer  to  all  parts  of  the  theatre,  and  the  receipts  of  the 
house  were  upwards  of  three  thousand  dollars.  It  was  filled  with 
the  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  city,  and  the  whole  affair  went  off 
with  great  eclaU 

Two  days  after,  Mr.  Hamblin  sailed  for  Liverpool,  previous  to 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  Il9 

which,  he  leased  the  Bowery  Theatre  to  Mr.  Dinnefordj  then 
manager  of  the  Franklin  Theatre,  who  commenced  re-building  it, 
having  formed  a  joint  stock  company  for  that  purpose.  He  re- 
opened it  on  the  first  of  January,  1837,  engaged  Cooke's  company 
of  equestrians,  and  produced  Mazeppa,  which  had  an  unprece- 
dented run,  twenty  thousand  dollars  having  been  received  at  the 
doors,  during  the  first  four  weeks  of  its  performance. 

Mr.  Hamblin,  on  his  arrival  in  London,  played  at  Covent  Gar- 
den Theatre,  then  under  the  management  of  Mr.  Osbaldiston ; 
he  made  an  arrangement  to  share  the  proceeds  of  each  night, 
after  one  hundred  pounds  had  been  deducted  by  the  management 
for  expenses,  but  as  that  amount  was  never  received  on  any  oc- 
casion when  he  played,  of  course  it  proved  an^unprofitable  specu- 
lation to  all  parties. 

In  the  latter  part  of  July,  he  returned  to  New  York,  and  opened 
at  the  Bowery  in  Hamlet,  to  a  house  that  yielded  seven  hundred 
and  seventy-seven  dollars.  He  played  but  four  nights,  the  re- 
ceipts diminishing  to  two  hundred  dollars  a  night. 

The  Bowery  Theatre  was  carried  on  successfully  by  the  as- 
signees of  Dinneford  (who  had  failed)  until  the  eighteenth  of  Feb- 
ruary following,  when  the  theatre  was  burnt  to  the  ground. 

As  an  actor,  Mr.  Hamblin  never  has  risen  to  any  extraordinary 
eminence.  He  possesses  a  good  figure  when  "  made  up  "  for 
the  stage,  and  nature  has  bountifully  lavished  on  the  formation  of 
his  head,  a  symmetry  and  beauty  which  she  has  denied  his  limbs ; 
his  voice  is  execrable,  and  with  the  most  strict  attention,  all  he 
says  is  not  intelligible.  His  style  is  evidently  founded  on  that  of 
the  great  John  Philip  Kemble,  of  whom  he  is  a  most  indifferent 
imitator. 

We  would  not,  however,  have  the  reader  infer  that  he  has  no 
merit.  There  is  a  dignity  and  gentlemanly  bearing  in  his  mien, 
that  does  not  desert  him,  even  when  off  the  stage,  and  his  per- 
formance of  Hamlet  is  certainly  equal  to  that  of  Wallack,  who 


120  THE  actor; 

has  played  it  to  large  audiences.  His  Macbeth,  too,  is  far  above 
mediocrity  ;  still  he  does  not  possess  any  of  the  attributes  of  ge- 
nius, which  is  characterized  for  its  bold  originality,  but  is  content 
to  enact  such  parts  as  he  has  seen  represented  by  true  artists. 
Mr.  Hamblin  has  one  great  merit ;  he  is  always  perfect  in  his 
text,  the  prompter  being,  £is  far  as  concerns  him,  a  useless  appen- 
dage. 

This  reminds  us  of  an  incident  that  once  occurred  in  the  green- 
room of  Drury  Lane.  M unden  and  a  number  of  other  celebrated 
actors,  being  present,  the  conversation  turned  upon  Byron's  po- 
ems, which,  at  that  period,  were  creating  considerable  excitement 
in  the  literary  circles. 

"  Mr.  Munden,"  said  Mrs.  Edwin,  "  have  you  read  '  English 
Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers  7^ '' 

"  No,"  said  the  comedian,  "  I  never  read  anything  but  my 
faris.  and  it  would  be  well  if  you  all  followed  my  example." 

As  a  manager,  Mr.  Hamblin  has  been  fortunate  in  having  been 
surrounded  by  minds  happily  calculated  to  assist  him  in  his  enter- 
prises, which,  in  addition  to  his  own  unsubdued  energy,  have  ren- 
dered his  career  succesful. 

Among  those  connected  with  him  we  would  class  Mr.  Thomas 
Flynn,  as  almost  without  an  equal  for  tact,  procuring  material, 
and  out-of-door  management,  while  Mr.  James  Anderson,*  or  as 

*  This  gentleman  is  at  present  stage-manager  of  the  Bowery  Theatre,  and 
is  worthy  of  a  more  extended  notice  than  we  can  here  devote  to  him.  He 
was  born  at  Carlow  (Ireland),  and  is  a  descendant  of  a  highly  respectable 
family  of  Quakers.  He  was  by  trade  an  upholsterer.  His  success  has  not 
been  equal  to  his  merit.  Could  he  be  induced  to  discard  a  portion  of  his 
modesty,  take  lodgings  at  a  fashionable  hotel,  drink  his  champaigne,  and 
assume  a  moiety  of  the  assurance  that  characterizes  others  of  more  preten- 
sion and  less  ability,  he  would  probably  receive  that  remuneration  for  his 
services  to  which  his  merits  entitle  him. 

He  has  a  farm  in  Tioga  county,  where  his  family  reside,  who  are  in  pos- 
session of  every  comfort. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN,  121 

he  is  more  generally  known,  "  Irish  Jimmy,"  has  manifested  mor. 
ability  in  the  production  of  pieces,  than  any  man  in  this  country, 
or  probably  in  Europe.  His  mind,  which  determines,  almost  bv 
intuition,  the  excrescences  of  a  new  play,  enables  him  to  mould 
and  fashion  it  for  the  stage,  with  marvellous  judgment  and  facility, 
and  his  power  of  lopping  off  the  superfluous,  and  bringing  for- 
ward the  prominent  points  of  a  piece,  is  equally  astonishing. 

Whatever  Mr.  Hamblin's  merits  or  demerits  may  be,  either  as 
actor  or  manager,  he  has  been  the  means  of  bringing  considera- 
ble talent  into  notice,  for  which  he  has  been  remunerated. 

Misfortune,  however,  seems  to  have  pursued  him,  but  he  pos- 
sesses a  recuperative  spirit  that  no  common  calamity  can  subdue. 

His  mind  is  only  equalled  by  his  heart,  which  is  alive  to  the  warmest 
sympathies.  In  the  words  of  the  Persian  proverb,  **  May  he  live  a  thousand 
yeai-s,  and  his  shadow  never  be  less." 


122 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Speculations  on  a  Peculiar  System  of  Philosophy — Animal  Food,  with  at 
few  reflections  thereon-^Mr.  Booth  at  Mobile — Unlooked-for  Candidate 
for  a  Funeral  Service-^Engagement  at  Louisville — Easy  Method  of  pro- 
curing a  Horse — Two  Extraordinary  Persons  confounded — Booth  in 
"  durance  vile" — His  Escape — Remarkable  Adventure  with  a  "  Parson." 

There  is  a  class  of  philosophers  in  the  world  who,  having  rumi- 
nated, perhaps  too  deeply,  over  the  wrongs  and  miseries  of  their  \ 
fellows,  and  having  also  mused,  like  Hamlet,  o'er  ! 

*•  The  whip*  and  scorns  of  time. 
The  oppriessor'a  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely. 
The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay. 
The  insolence  of  offiee/' 

I 
and  "  the  thousand  natural  shocks  that  jflesh  is  heir  to,"  finallyi 
regard  the  whole  machinery  of  civilized  life  as  erroneous.     Lost^ 
in  the  bewildering  mazes  of  incessant  reflection,  by  which  the 
judgment  is  not  unfrequently  led  astray^  they  sometimes  narrow . 
their  opinions  of  the  eternal  principles  of  right  to  such  a  subli-il 
mated  degree  of  exactness,  that  the  lives  of  the   beasts  of  the 
earth,  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  the  fishes  of  the  sea,  which  God 
and  nature  intended  to  minister  to  the  appetite  of  man,  are  sacred 
as  those  of  their  own  species.     To  their  apprehension,  the  bird 
brought  down  by  the  shot  of  tho  sportsman  has  been  murdered—* 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  123 

the  bullock  that  has  been  killed  for  food  has  been  inhumanly  and 
wantonly  slaughtered — and  the  fish  which  the  angler  has  hooked, 
has  suffered  an  unnatural  martyrdom. 

Of  this  class  was  the  poet  Shelley,  to  whose  writings  Mr.  Booth 
was  especially  partial.  One  of  his  favorite  pastimes  was  the  pe- 
rusal  of  "  Queen  Mab,"  from  which  he  probably  imbibed  many 
of  those  opinions  which  the  poet  himself  afterwards  recanted. 

We  can  easily  comprehend  the  impression  which  such  a  work, 
with  its  glowing  imagery  and  nervous  poetic  diction,  would  be 
likely  to  produce  on  a  mind  accustomed  to  habits  of  retirement 
and  reflection. 

Mr.  Booth,  after  having  persuaded  himself  that  it  was  positive 
sin  to  destroy,  much  more  to  consume,  anything  that  had  life, 
for  a  period  of  three  years  lived  entirely  upon  vegetable  food. 
Even  oysters  were  sacred  from  his  appetite. 

We  confess  that  we  are  no  advocates  of  the  theory,  particu- 
larly as  in  our  piscatory  excursions  our  hands  have  been  stained 
with  the  blood  of  unnumbered  victims,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
multitudinous  quantity  of  shell-fish  that  we  have  doomed  to  a 
"  living  tomb." 

It  was  a  wise  provision  of  nature  that  man,  after  a  certain  age, 
should  die ;  otherwise,  the  world  would  long  since  have  been  too 
"  cabin'd  and  confinM"  to  have  contained  its  enormous  and  ever- 
augmenting  population.  Equally  just  was  the  arrangement  that 
rendered  the  meat  of  the  ox  and  the  lamb  palatable  to  the  taste 
and  necessary  to  the  animal  part  of  man,  thereby  delivering  the 
earth  of  the  numerous  herds  of  beasts  that  would  else  have  wan- 
dered over  the  universe. 

We  will  not,  however,  attempt  to  prove  the  wisdom  or  absurd- 
ity of  the  theory,  being  somewhat  prejudiced,  perhaps,  from 
being  accustomed  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  nature  with  whatever 
the  gods  and  the  cooks  provide. 

Mr.  Booth,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  lived  entirely  free 


124  THE  actor; 

from  the  use  of  animal  foocl,  regarding  the  destruction  of  every- 
thing that  had  life  as  contrary  to  the  intentions  of  Providence. 

During  an  engagement  at  Mobile,  he  sent  for  a  clergyman  to 
perform  the  funeral  service  over  a  dead  body,  offering  to  pay  him 
for  his  trouble  in  advance.  The  minister  arrived,  and  several 
friends  were  invited  to  witness  the  ceremony. 

After  the  visitors  had  assembled,  the  clergyman  desired  to  see 
the  remains,  upon  which  Booth  brought  them  from  an  adjoining 
room,  and  after  removing  the  sheet  with  which  they  were  covered, 
a  dead  pigeon  (unplucked)  was  discovered,  over  which  he  insisted 
the  service  should  be  read. 

The  clergyman,  surprised  and  astonished,  declined,  remarking 
to  Mr.  Booth,  that  he  **  did  not  suppose  he  would  have  been  guilty 
of  making  such  an  unreasonable  and  improper  request." 

"  But,"  said  the  tragedian,  "  this  is  an  innocent  little  creature 
that  never  injured  any  one,  that  was  kind  and  affectionate  to  its 
young,  that  knew  nothing  of  wrong  or  injustice,  and  has  been 
cruelly  murdered  by  some  lawless  and  inhuman  wanderer.  Why 
will  you  not  pray  for  it  ?'*>!  rfSh-U^da  ^  v  >r  ;t>4:tj^ 

The  clergyman,  however,  not  believing  that  birds  had  any  fur- 
ther destiny  than  to  perish  with  the  loss  of  their  breath,  declined, 
and  Booth  was  compelled  to  bury  his  protege  "  unanointed  and 
unanel'd,  and  "  with  all  its  imperfections  on  its  head." 

From  Mobile,  he  proceeded  to  Louisville,  and  opened  on  the 
8th  of  March,  1835,  as  usual,  in  Richard  the  Third,  which  was 
succeeded  by  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  Sir  Edward  Mortimer,  and 
various  other  parts. 

At  the  close  of  his  engagement,  he  accepted  an  offer  from  Mr. 
Eberly  to  play  at  a  town  a  few  miles  from  Louisville,  and  as 
pedestrianism  was  one  of  his  peculiarities,  he  started  on  foot,  with 
the  intention  of  walking  the  distance. 

While  on  his  journey,  he  encountered  an  officer  with  a  run- 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  125 

away  slave  on  horseback,  whom  he  was  conducting  to  the  town 
where  Booth  was  to  play. 

The  officer,  with  his  slave,  had  dismounted  at  an  inn  to  take 
breakfast,  and  left  the  horse  standing  at  the  door,  which  Booth, 
after  having  concluded  that  riding  was  much  easier  than,  and 
preferable  to,  walking,  mounted  and  rode  away.  The  horse,  of 
course,  being  afterwards  missed,  Booth  was  pursued,  overtaken 
and  made  prisoner.  On  being  questioned  relative  to  his  name, 
he  answered  "  Love/^."  ;  -f^mr. 

Lovett  was  a  notorious  horse-thief,  who  had  long  eluded  the 
officers  of  justice,  and  for  whose  apprehension  a  reward  of  five 
hundred  dollars  was  offered.  Previous  to  his  execution  (for  he 
has  been  since  arrested  and  hung),  he  bequeathed  his  head  to 
Booth,  and  it  was  conveyed  to  the  representative  of  "  Richard"  by 
Mr.  Rice,  the  comedian,  and  the  skull  still  adorns  the  mantel  of 
one  of  Mr.  Booth's  apartments,  as  a  curiosity. 

Booth,  on  answering  "  Lovett,"  was  immediately  rushed  upon 
by  several  persons,  anxious  to  secure  him  first,  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  the  reward.  He  was  conducted  back  to  Louisville, 
where  he  still  gave  his  name  as  "  Lovett,"  and  was  fully  com- 
mitted to  jail,  which  was  under  the  charge  of  a  burly  individual 
by  the  name  of  Major  Parsons  (uncle  to  the  Parson  Parsons, 
formerly  an  actor),  not  remarkable  for  his  acuteness,  and  some- 
what decrepit  from  age. 

Booth  was  lodged  in  the  second  story,  with  several  individuals 
of  considerably  larger  dimensions  than  himself,  who  assisted  him 
in  his  mischievous  pranks. 

It  was  the  custom  of  Parsons  to  count  his  prisoners  every 
morning,  before  going  to  market,  with  great  precision,  and  while 
going  through  this  operation,  he  always,  during  the  confinement 
of  Booth,  gave  the  tragedian  an  indescribable  stare  of  contempt, 
regarding  him  as  his  worst,  but  most  important  prisoner,  and 


126  THE   ACTOR  ; 

looking  carefully  at  his  dress  in  order  to  identify  him  in  case  of 
accident. 

One  of  the  bars  of  the  prison-window  had  become  detached,  so 
that  it  could  be  removed  without  any  difficulty,  allowing  any  one 
of  moderate  dimensions  to  get  through  the  aperture. 

During  the  absence  of  Parsons,  who  daily  went  to  market, 
Booth  managed  to  get  through  the  window,  and  by  means  of 
blankets  tied  together,  was  lowered  to  the  ground.  He  at  once 
made  his  way  to  the  market,  where  he  met  Parsons,  who  imme- 
diately recognized  him. 

"  Holloa,"  said  Parsons,  "  how  the  devil  came  you  here  ?" 

"  I  never  saw  you  before,"  said  the  tragedian,  looking  him 
steadfastly  in  the  face. 

"  Stay  here  a  moment  then,"  returned  Parsons,  and  away  he 
went,  as  fast  as  he  could  conveniently  walk,  to  the  prison.  In 
the  meantime,  Booth  had  repaired  to  the  jail  and  was  hoisted  to 
his  place  of  confinement. 

Parsons  entered  to  see  if  "  Lovett'^  was  there,  and  the  first  in- 
dividual whom  he  encountered,  was  Booth.  His  hair  almost 
stood  erect  with  wonder  and  astonishment. 

"  Why,  fellow,"  said  Parsons,  "  did  I  not  leave  you  in  the 
market,  ten  minutes  since  ?" 

"  I  never  saw  you  before,"  said  the  tragedian,  with  his  un- 
faltering gaze,  and  in  his  deep  and  peculiar  tone  of  voice. 

Parsons  was  incredulous,  as  he  hastened  back  to  market,  and 
there  stood  Junius  Brutus,  alias  "  Lovett,"  who  had  left  the  jail 
as  before,  and  arrived  first. 

"  How  are  you.  Parsons  ?  said  Booth.  "  How  is  your  nephew 
the  parson  ? 

Parson's  cheek  began  to  pale.  He  thought  there  was  some 
necromancy  or  witchcraft  in  the  matter.  "  Stay  but  a  moment 
here,"  said  he,  "  and  I'll  come  back."  He  wended  his  way 
home,  almost  delirious  with  excitement  and  incredulity,  where  he 


<5R,  A  PEEP  BEHIKD  THE  CURTAIN.  127 

found  Booth,  which  almost  drove  him  frantic.  The  day  passed, 
and  nearly  every  hour,  Parsons  entered  the  apartment  to  see  that 
Lovett  was  safely  secured. 

The  next  morning,  Parsons  counted  his  prisoners  as  usual, 
eyeing  Booth  with  the  most  intense  scrutiny.  The  tragedian  Iiad 
a  large  patch  upon  his  boot,  which  Parsons  noted  particularly. 
Finding  his  prisoners  all  safe,  he  went  to  market  as  usual,  medi- 
tating upon  the  extraordinary  occurrences  of  the  previous  day, 
and  there,  to  his  utter  amazement  and  horror,  stood  Lovett,  the 
identical  horse-thief  whom  he  had  just  left. 

**  How  did  you  get  out  ?"  said  Parsons. 

"  Out  of  where  V  echoed  Booth. 

"  Why,  out  of  jail,  where  I  left  you,  to  be  sure." 

"  Fool,"  said  Booth,  "  do  you  wish  to  insult  me ;  I  never  saw 
you  before." 

"  Why,  rascal,^'  said  Parsons,  "  I  know  you  by  the  patch  upon 
your  boot.'' 

Parsons's  wits  began  to  turn ;  he  could  hardly  believe  his 
senses.  He  walked,  he  ran,  until  out  of  breath,  to  the  jail,  and 
there  was  Lovett,  with  the  patch  upon  his  boot,  as  before. 

Parsons  was  taken  ill  and  continued  so  for  several  days,  and 
Booth  resorted  to  another  stratagem,  to  recover  him.  He  feigned 
illness  and  death,  and  having  made  an  arrangement  with  a  friend, 
at  his  lodgings,  he  was  taken  from  the  jail  in  a  coffin,  bored 
with  holes  (which  allowed  him  to  breathe)  and  conveyed  from  the 
jail,  which  satisfied  Parsons  that  he  was  effectually  rid  of 
"Lovett." 

A  short  time  afterwards,  the  tragedian  met  Parsons  and  in- 
quired why  he  had  circulated  a  report,  that  he  (Booth)  was 
Lovett.  Parsons  explained  the  resemblance,  and  apologized  to 
him  for  having  acted  so  rudely  in  market. 


129 


CHAPTER  XV. 

3ooth  at  the  Bowery  Theatre — Flynn's  benefit — Invitation  to  Commodore 
Elliott — Reception  of  Captain  H****  and  officers — Ludicrous  mistake- 
Congratulations  of  the  Press— Flynn*s  birth — His  various  engagements — 
Visit  to  America — JDibut  in  Boston — Sudden  marriage — Appropriate 
announcement  on  the  play-bills — ^Engagement  with  Hamblin — Visit  to 
London — Adventure  at  Vauxhall  Garden — Return  to  America — Opening 
of  the  National  Theatre — Its  success — The  "  Maid  of  Cashmere  "—New 
Bowery  Theatre— New  Chatham  Theatre— Flynn  in  a  new  character- 
Mr.  Flynn's  talents  as  an  actor — His  managerial  exertions. 

After  the  occurrences  detailed  in  the  preceding  chapter,  Mr. 
Booth  returned  to  his  farm.  In  the  month  of  August,  1836,  be 
visited  New  York,  and  performed  an  engagement  at  the  Bowery 
Theatre,  with  his  usual  success. 

He  engaged  to  play  for  Flynn^s  benefit,  but  returned  to  his 
home,  without  tendering  him  the  promised  aid. 

Mr.  Flynn,  who  was  always  alive  to  his  own  interest,  as  well 
as  to  that  of  the  establishment  with  which  he  was  connected, 
resolved,  as  usual,  to  have  some  novel  attraction  on  the  occasion, 
and  the  frigate  Constitution  having  just  arrived  with  our  Minister 
to  France,  Mr.  Livingston,  Flynn  went  on  board,  and  invited 
Commodore  Elliott  and  his  officers  to  attend  the  theatre  on  the  • 
night  of  his  benefit. 

The  Commodore  acknowledged   the  compliment,   and  urged,  1 
as  an  excuse,  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  him  to  be  present. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  129 

having  already  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  with  Mr.  Livings- 
ton, but  promised  notwithstanding,  to  visit  the  theatre  if  his  en- 
gagement would  permit.  He,  however,  advised  Flynn  to  go  into 
the  "  Mess- Room,"  and  extend  the  invitation  to  Lieutenant 
Montgomery  and  officers,  not  omitting  to  mention  the  fact  that 
the  Commodore  would  be  present. 

Flynn  followed  his  suggestion,  and  on  the  evening  appointed, 
all  the  officers  arrived  and  were  conducted  into  the  private  office 
of  the  theatre,  where  a  cold  collation,  with  the  usual  accompa- 
niments, awaited  them. 

Flynn,  well  aware  that  the  Commodore  would  not  be  present, 
induced  the  officers  to  tarry  at  the  table  considerably  longer 
than  they  otherwise  would  have  done,  under  the  pretence  of 
waiting  his  arrival.  Having  taken  a  rapid  survey  of  their 
uniforms,  he  concluded  that  Captain  H****,  of  the  Marine  Corps, 
bore  a  stronger  resemblance  to  the  Commodore  than  any  one 
else  present,  as  he  wore  an  epaulet  on  each  shoulder. 

The  reader  is  probably  aware  of  the  fact,  that  in  foreign 
ports,  the  officers  in  the  marine  service  are  dressed  with  more 
regard  to  style  and  personal  appearance  than  those  attached  to 
the  navy. 

Flynn,  having  announced  to  his  guests  that  Commodore  Elliot 
had  sent  him  information  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to 
attend,  ushered  his  company,  led  by  himself  (arm-in-arm  with 
Capt.  H****),  to  the  box  appropriated  to  the  officers. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  Flynn  and  his  companion,  the  audience 
rose,  and  cheer  upon  cheer  attended  the  entrance  of  Captain 

"  For  the  love  of  heaven,  Mr.  Flynn,"  exclaimed  the  Captain, 
"  explain  to  the  audience  that  I  am  not  Commodore  Elliott,  for 
whom  they  evidently  take  me." 

"  Put  your  hand  on  your  heart,"  said  Flynn,  "  as  a  token  of 

acknowledgment,  and  FU  afterwards  explain  the  matter  from  the 

6* 


IW  THE  actor; 

stage."  The  audience,  in  the  meantime,  being  reminded  of 
Commodore  Elliott's  connection  with  the  affair  of  the  figure  head 
of  Jackson,  which  was  sawed  from  the  bow  of  the  Constitution, 
and  with  which  the  reader  is  probably  familiar,  applauded 
vociferously. 

Following  the  injunctions  of  Fly nn,  accompanied  by  a  gracious 
inclination  of  the  head,  poor  H****  was  greeted  with  a  burst  of 
almost  deafening  applause,  and  compelled  to  remain  through  the 
performance,  the  "  observed  of  all  observers,"  and  the  subject  of 
speculation  and  remark. 

The  ensuing  day,  the  press  noticed  the  performance,  and 
publicly  congratulated  the  Commodore  on  his  excellent  health 
and  personal  appearance,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  officers,  who 
seemed  to  relish  the  joke  exceedingly. 

As  we  have,  of  necessity,  been  compelled  to  associate  the 
name  of  Flynn  with  that  of  Booth  in  this  work,  he  having  been 
his  "  counsel's  consistory,"  and  as  he  is  also  identified  with  the 
dramatic  history  of  the  country,  it  may  not  be  inappropriate  to 
give  the  reader  a  short  sketch  of  his  career. 

Mr.  Thomas  Flynn  was  born  on  the  twenty-second  of  De- 
cember, 1804,  and  made  his  dehut  in  London,  at  the  Surrey 
Theatre,  in  March,  1 822,  as  the  pupil  of  the  late  Mr.  Bengough, 
of  Drury  Lane  (father  of  the  celebrated  artiste  of  the  Olympic 
Theatre,  New  York),  and  proprietor  and  manager  of  the  Cobourg 
Theatre,  in  the  character  of  Florian  in  the  "  Foundling  of  the 
Forest,"  and  made  an  extraordinary  impression  for  a  first 
appearance. 

He  afterwards  performed  at  Newmarket  as  leading  tragedian, 
playing  Hamlet  with  very  good  success,  so  good  indeed,  that  Mr. 
Decamp,  manager  of  the  Newcastle  Theatre,  engaged  him  for 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  Chester,  Shrewsbury  and  Sheffield,  and 
he  opened  in  Newcastle,  in  the  character  of  Rob  Roy,  to  Miss 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  131 

Stevens's  (now  the  Countess  of  Essex)  Diana  Vernon,  and  as 
Count  Almaviva  in  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro." 

It  was  at  this  period  he  discovered  that  he  had  mistaken  his 
forte,  and,  therefore,  abandoned  tragedy*  for  light  comedy. 

In  the  year  1824,  Mr.  Flynn  quitted  Mr.  Decamp's  company, 
and  joined  that  of  Mr.  Thomas  Trotter,  at  Worthing,  where  he 
played  the  leading  parts  in  comedy  so  successfully,  that  Mr.  Jerry 
Sneak  Russell  offered  him  a  liberal  engagement  to  play  at  the 
Brighton  Theatre,  where  he  opened  as  Corinthian  Tom,  in  "  Tom 
and  Jerry,''  and  logo  in  Shakspere's  "  Othello." 

Here  he  performed  until  the  close  of  the  season,  a  portion  of 
the  time,  playing  with  Miss  Foote  (now  the  Countess  of  Harring- 
ton), upon  whom  he  made  so  favorable  an  impression,  that  she 
obtained  for  him  an  engagement  at  the  Bristol  Theatre,  then 
under  the  management  of  the  father  of  Mr.  Macready,  with 
whom  he  remained  (sustaining  the  leading  characters  in  tragedy 
and  comedy),  in  the  capacity  of  stage  manager,  until  the  latter 
part  of  1826,  when  he  was  engaged  by  EUiston  for  Drury  Lane ; 
but  that  gentleman  having  suddenly  withdrawn  from  the  establish- 
ment, to  assume  the  management  of  the  Surrey  Theatre,  he  fol- 
lowed him  thither,  and  opened  as  Floriville  in  the  "  Dramatist," 
and  Humphrey  Grizzle  in  the  "  Three  Singles,"  Elliston  playing 
Vapid  in  the  first  piece,  and  the  Singles  in  the  latter.  He  con- 
tinued at  the  Surrey  until  Mr.  Finn  arrived  in  England,  who 


*  It  is  rather  a  curious  fact  that  the  majority  of  comedians  cannot  divest 
themselves  of  the  idea  that  they  are  by  nature  fitted  to  shine  in  the  depart- 
ment of  tragedy.  As  an  illustration  of  this,  w^e  need  but  refer  to  the  cele- 
brated Foote,  who  made  his  debut  in  Othello  and  failed ;  Liston,  who 
attempted  Octaviaii;  Q,uick,  who  undertook  Miehard  the  Third,  and  was 
ridiculed  ;  Munden,  who,  in  the  early  part  of  his  career,  discovered  "  that 
tragedy  was  not  his  forte  ;"  Dowton,  who  commenced  as  a  tragedian  ;  Jack 
Reeve,  who  once  played  Othello  ;  Finn,  who  has  enacted  Jaffier,  and  "  last 
not  least,"  Hackett,  who  butchered  Kin^  Lear  and  Hamlet  in  cold  blood. 


[33  THE   ACTOR  ; 

?ngaged  him  to  play  at  the  Federal  Street  Theatre,  in  Boston,  at 
iine  pounds  sterling  per  week. 

He  left  London  in  August,  for  America,  and  opened  in  Boston 
on  the  tenth  of  September,  as  Captain  Absolute  in  the  "  Rivals,'^ 
Kinn,  Kilner,  Duff,  Barnes,  Andrews,  King,  Mrs.  Barnes,  Miss 
Rock  and  Mrs.  Young,  playing  in  the  same  piece. 

After  an  engagement  of  four  months,  which  closed  with 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  Mr.  Flynn  enacting  Romeo,  and  Mrs.  Slo- 
man  Juliet,  he  next  appeared  at  the  old  Chatham  Theatre,  under 
the  management  of  Mr.  May  wood,  as  Rover  in  the  comedy  of 
-'  Wild  Oats,"  a  character  which  won  for  him  general  admi- 
ration. 

Here  he  fell  desperately  in  love  with  Miss  Twibill,  whom  he 
married,  against  the  wishes  of  her  friends  and  admirers,  at  a  very 
short  notice,  having  proposed  to  the  lady  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  married  her  at  seven. 

As  the  affair  created  considerable  excitement,  the  manager 
shortly  after  announced  "  The  Way  to  Get  Married,"  with  Flynn 
as  Tangent,  and  Mrs.  Flynn  as  Julia,  to  be  followed  by  "  A  Day 
after  the  Wedding,^^  with  Flynn  as  Col,  FreelovCy  and  Mrs.  Flynn 
as  Lady  Elizabeth, 

At  the  close  of  his  engagement  at  the  Chatham  he  left  New 
York,  and  visited  Charleston,  Savannah  and  Augusta,  and 
returned  to  New  York ;  whence  he  went  to  Baltimore  in  the 
year  1831,  and  joined  Booth  in  the  management  of  the  Holliday 
Street  Theatre. 

He  next  became  manager  of  the  Walnut  Street  Theatre  in 
Philadelphia,  where  he  remained  until  1832,  when  he  entered 
into  an  engagement  with  Hamblin,  at  the  Bowery.  Through  his 
exertions,  the  "  Last  Days  of  Pompeii "  was  produced,  which 
met  with  the  most  extraordinary  success,  and  "  Norman  Leslie  " 
and  the  Jewess,  which  were  equally  attractive. 


OK,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  133 

In  the  year  1836,  he  embarked  for  England  for  the  purpose  of 
contracting  engagements  with  actors  and  artistes  for  the  National 
Theatre,  New  York,  which  he  had  previously  hired. 

During  Flynn's  sojourn  in  London,  he  visited  Vauxhall  Garden 
one  evening,  to  witness  the  performance  of  the  "  Ravel  family," 
in  company  with  Mr.  "  Jim  Crow"  Rice,  and  several  other 
Americans. 

Flynn,  who  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  Lord  Adolphus 
Fitzclarence  (son  of  William  the  Fourth),  was  generally  mis- 
taken for  that  gentleman,  light  hair,  small  eyes,  rubicund  face, 
and  considerable  embonpoint  being  characteristics  of  both  per- 
sonages. 

There  is  one  peculiarity  in  their  characters,  however,  which  is 
essentially  diiferent.  Lord  Adolphus  being  celebrated  for  his 
penuriousness,  and  the  ci-devant  manager  for  his  liberality,  which 
was  the  means  of  rectifying  the  error. 

Lord  Adolphus,  or,  as  he  is  generally  called,  "  Lord  Dolly,"  is 
a  constant  visitor  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  his  mother  being  the 
celebrated  Mrs.  Jordan,  of  dramatic  notoriety.  He  is  said  to  have 
an  extraordinary  penchant  for  conversation,  every  third  sentence 
ending  with  "  the  late  King,  my  Father,'^ 

During  the  evening,  the  party  sat  down  to  supper,  the  King's 
band,  the  while,  playing  for  their  entertainment,  and  the  company 
manifesting  as  much  respect  and  attention  to  Flynn,  as  if  he  had 
been  "  Lord  Dolly"  himself. 

"  My  Lord,  shall  I  help  you  to  a  glass  of  wine  ?"  said  one. 

**  Lord  Fitzclarence,  allow  me  to  propose  your  health,"  said  a 
second. 

"  Have  you  any  objection,  my  Lord,"  said  Rice,  "  to  allow  your 
father's  band  to  play  Yankee  Doodle  .^" 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Flynn,  who,  beckoning  to  the  leader,  in 
an  authoritative  tone  said,  "  Play  Yankee  Doodle .'" 


134  THE    ACTOR  ; 

"Certainly,  my  Lord,"  and  the  band  immediately  struck  up  the 
desired  tune. 

The  Americans  becoming  rather  excited  and  enthusiastic  at  the 
sound  of  their  national  air.  Rice,  mounting  the  table,  shouted,  "  Is 
there  another  such  a  tune  as  that,  and  if  so,  where  is  it  ?" 

Flynn,  becoming  alarmed  at  the  conduct  of  his  friends,  suddenly 
threw  a  sovereign  at  the  band  and  made  his  exit,  when  every  one 
doubted  the  reality  of  his  lordship,  as  "  Lord  Dolly"  had  never 
been  suspected  of  a  generous  act,  being  mean  to  a  degree. 

Flynn  returned  to  America,  in  company  with  Mitchell,  James 
Wallack  and  Son,  Plumer,  Charles  Howard,  the  Ravel  Family, 
Morley  (the  vocalist),  Edwin  and  Bengough,  whose  services  he 
secured  for  the  National  Theatre,  which  he  opened  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  of  August  with  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice"  (Booth  playing 
Shylock),  and  the  "  Man  with  the  Carpet  Bag,"  in  which  Mr. 
Mitchell  made  his  debut  in  America,  and  at  once  established  him- 
self in  public  favor. 

The  first  night's  receipts  were  sixteen  hundred  and  fifty-two 
dollars,  and  Booth  played  eight  nights,  to  houses  almost  equally 
as  crowded. 

The  National  Theatre,  under  Flynn's  management,  was 
eminently  successful,  the  receipts  for  twenty-five  weeks  being 
ninety-five  thousand  dollars.  It  was  here  the  "  Maid  of  Cashmere" 
was  produced,  under  the  direction  of  Celeste ;  the  first  week's 
receipts  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum  of  seventy-seven  hundred 
and  fifty -one  dollars,  being  the  largest  sum  ever  taken  in  one  week 
in  New  York,  at  the  same  prices  of  admission. 

Flynn's  lease  of  the  National  having  expired  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  the  building  was  sold  to  Hackett  and  Mauran ;  the  former 
opened  it,  and  lost  several  thousand  dollars  in  a  very  short 
period. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Bowery  Theatre,  which  had  been  burnt 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  l35" 

down,  was  re-built  by  Dinneford,  and  Flynn  became  stage 
manager,  but  in  1838,  it  was  again  destroyed  by  fire,  when  Flynn 
embarked  with  Booth  on  a  professional  tour  for  the  South. 

After  his  return,  in  conjunction  with  H.  E.  Willard,  he  built 
the  Chatham  Theatre  and  opened  it  in  September,  in  the  same 
year,  where  he  remained  until  theatricals  became  in  such  a 
depressed  condition,  that  he  retired  from  the  concern,  and  appeared 
as  a  disciple  of  Father  Matthew,  in  the  Temperance  cause. 

As  an  actor,  Mr.  Flynn  has  exhibited  the  possession  of  con- 
siderable talent,  particularly  as  a  comedian.  His  success  in 
comedy,  in  our  opinion,  has  been  chiefly  owing  to  a  natural 
exuberance  of  animal  spirits  which  never  deserts  him,  either  on 
or  off  the  stage.  With  an  apparent  contempt  for  the  text  of  his 
author,  he  has  the  faculty  of  rendering  every  part  he  assumes 
excessively  ludicrous,  and  with  a  consciousness  that  his  audience 
will  relish  whatever  he  attempts,  he  almost  creates  the  character 
he  plays,  depending  upon  his'own  resources  to  carry  him  success- 
fully through. 

We  must  confess,  however,  that  he  appears  to  better  advantage 
off  the  stage,  and  excites  more  mirth  in  his  unrehearsed  conversa- 
ziones. His  memory,  which  is  remarkably  retentive,  his  quick 
observation  and  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  and  his  powers  of  imita- 
tion, which  are  extraordinary,  combined,  render  him  an  agreeable 
companion. 

Naturally  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  and  with  a  boundless 
acquaintance,  it  is  hardly  a  matter  of  surprise  that  his  oblations 
at  the  shrine  of  Bacchus  should  have  been  carried  to  an  extent 
beyond  that  which  prudence  and  propriety  would  have  dictated. 
His  natural  good  sense,  however,  in  a  happy  moment,  triumphed 
over  an  inordinate  passion,  and  he  at  once  reinstated  himself  in 
the  good  opinion  of  those  whose  friendship  is  worth  retaining,  and 
(what  is  of  more  value)  in  his  own  self  respect. 

As  a  manager,  he  certainly  has  no  superior,  as  those  who  know 


136  THE  actor; 

anything  of  his  career  are  aware.  Wherever  his  exertions  have 
been  directed  success  has  crowned  his  efforts,  and  whenever  he 
makes  his  appearance  again,  before  the  curtain,  as  manager,  the 
audience  may  confidently  expect  that  there  is  some  extraordinary 
attraction  behind  it. 


137 


CHAPTER  XVI . 

Booth's  visit  to  England— His  engagement  at  Drury  Lane — Disregard  of 
the  wishes  of  the  audience — Sudden  return  to  America— Visit  to  various 
places — Announcement  to  play  "  Richard"  at  the  Bowery — Destruction 
of  the  Theatre — Graphic  account  of  the  fire — "  Benefit  for  the  sufferers'* 
— Announcement  of  Booth,  as  Shylock — Sudden  disappearance — Booth  in 
a  new  character — Engagement  at  the  National  Theatre — Departure  for 
the  South — Unrehearsed  performance  on  board  the  "  Neptune" — At- 
tempt to  commit  suicide — Philosophical  request  to  Flynn — Appearance 
at  the  Charleston  Theatre — Booth's  attack  on  Flynn — A  valuable 
"  bridge"  broken — Lamentable  result — Obstacles  to  the  success  of  the 
Drama  in  America — Exorbitant  demands  of  actors — The  "  Starring" 
System  noticed — "  London  Assurance"  and  "  Fashion" — Engagement  of 
Booth  at  the  Park — Booth  **  at  Court" — Charles  Kean's  engagement — 
Occasional  reflections. 

After  Booth's  engagement  at  the  National  Theatre,  he  visited 
Philadelphia  and  Baltimore,  and  in  the  month  of  November,  1836, 
sailed  from  the  former  place  for  Europe. 

He  was  engaged  by  Mr.  Bunn,  who  was  at  that  period  lessee 
of  the  establishment,  to  appear  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  for  three 
nights,  at  one  hundred  pounds  a  night,  and  opened  in  his  favorite 
character  of  Richard  the  Third, 

At  the  close  of  the  performance,  on  the  first  evening,  he  was 
loudly  called  for  by  the  audience,  but  having  always  entertained 
a  repugnance  to  answering  a  summons  of  this  nature,  and  con- 
sidering the  custom  "  one  more  honored  in  the  breach,  than  the 
observance,'^  he  gave  it  no  attention. 


138  THE   ACTOR  ; 

Mr.  Cooper,  who  was  then  stage  manager,  went  to  the  dress- 
ing-room of  Booth  and  offered  to  conduct  him  before  the  audi- 
ence. 

"  Oh  !  certainly,  Mr.  Cooper,  I'll  go  with  you  now,"  said  the 
tragedian,  and  together  they  walked  to  the  stage  door. 

Cooper,  who  en  passant,  was  near  sighted,  having  paused  for  a 
moment  to  adjust  his  hair  and  cravat,  before  entering  on  the  stage, 
said,  "  Now,  Mr.  Booth,  I'm  ready,"  and  turning  round,  to  his 
surprise  found  his  companion  had  vanished.  He  returned  to  the 
dressing-room,  but  no  Mr.  Booth  could  be  seen.  "  Richard" 
had  disappeared,  having  thrown  his  cloak  over  his  shoulders,  and 
left  the  audience  shouting  for  "  Booth  !" 

On  the  second  night,  he  played  lago  to  Forrest's  Othello,  and 
on  the  third,  repeated  Richard, 

From  Drury  Lane  he  proceeded  to  the  Surrey  and  other  Thea- 
tres in  the  vicinity  of  London. 

Finding  theatricals  at  a  very  low  ebb,  he  took  passage  on  board 
the  ship  Ontario,  and  on  the  2d  of  July,  Mr.  Thomas  Flynn  re- 
ceived from  him  a  communication,  in  which  he  proposed  to  play 
on  the  4th  of  the  same  month,  for  two  hundred  dollars.  Flynn 
accepted  his  offer,  and  he  appeared  accordingly,  at  the  Bowery 
Theatre,  after  which  it  closed,  being  the  last  night  of  the  season. 

His  next  appearance  was  at  Boston  ;  thence,  he  went  to  New 
Orleans,  and  afterwards  returned  to  Philadelphia,  where  he 
played  his  usual  round  of  characters,  at  the  Walnut  Street 
Theatre. 

In  February,  1838,  Mr.  Flynn  was  appointed  by  the  assignees 
of  Mr.  William  Dinneford,  Manager  of  the  Bowery  Theatre,  for 
which  he  was  to  have  a  moiety  of  the  interest  in  the  establish- 
ment, after  the  liquidation  of  Dinneford's  debts. 

On  the  11th  of  the  same  month,  Mr.  Dinneford  was  despatched 
by  the  manager  to  Philadelphia,  to  engage  Mr.  Booth  for  the 
18th,  being  the  Monday  following,  to  open  as  Richard  the  Third, 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  139 

which  was  accordingly  announced,  to  be  followed  by  "  Tom  and 
Jerry,"  the  lamented  Finn  to  appear  as  Bob  Logic, 

After  the  performance  on  the  Saturday  evening  previous,  on 
seeing  the  watchmen  placed  in  their  accustomed  position,  Mr. 
Flynn  returned  to  his  residence  in  Mott-street,  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Finn,  the  comedian,  Mr.  Snowden,  Mr.  Freeman,  and  Mr. 
Bunn,  the  Treasurer  of  the  Theatre. 

They  had  not  left  the  house  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
when  the  watchman  knocked  at  Flynn's  door  and  proclaimed  that 
the  theatre  was  in  flames. 

From  a  graphic  account  of  the  fire  in  one  of  the  daily  papers 
we  extract  the  following : — 

At  the  end  of  Broadway,  in  Fourteenth-street,  the  light  re- 
flected by  the  snow  shone  so  strongly  that  you  could  see  to  pick 
up  a  pin.  Of  the  thousand  and  one  souls  who  started  from  their 
beds  and  stared  out  of  their  windows,  all  thought  that  the  fire 
was  in  the  next  street,  or  in  the  next  block,  so  intense  were  the 
flames,  and  so  lurid  and  vivid  was  the  light,  aided  by  the  reflec- 
tion from  the  snow  on  the  roofs,  and  in  the  streets. 

Poor  Tom  Flynn  stood  in  the  street,  looking  like  "  patience  on 
a  monument,  smiling  at  grief,"  or  at  the  great  conflagration. 
Tom  had  a  splendid  collection  of  manuscripts  in  the  building. 
He  was  the  last  man  in  the  house,  except  the  private  watchmen, 
and  when  he  was  leaving,  there  was  no  trace  of  any  other  sparks 
on  the  premises  except  himself.  As  the  fire  progressed,  every 
now  and  then,  away  would  go  a  bundle  of  burnt  papers,  hurled 
through  the  air. 

"  There  goes  one  of  my  invaluable  manuscripts,"  says  Tom, 
"  there  go  two  hundred  and  eighty-four  dollars  !" 

"  Never  mind,  Tom,"  says  our  friend  Finn,  who  was  standing 
close  by,  "  it's  only  the  destruction  of  pamper  currency — and  you 
are  anxious  for  a  return  to  specie  payments  !" 


140  THE  actor; 

"  The  Lord  be  praised,"  said  a  pious  puritan,  close  to  our  side, 
"  this  house  of  iniquity — ^this  ante-chamber  to  hell  will  never  be 
re-built  again !  The  fire  is  the  special  work  of  Providence  ! 
Providence  had  a  hand  in  this !" 

"  Then  Providence  ought  to  be  arrested  for  arson,"  said  a 
rowdy  in  reply. 

"  Profane  Philistine,"  replied  the  pattern  of  piety — "  thou  art 
not  acquainted  with  Providence." 

"  No,  nor  I  don't  want  to  know  him,  if  he  sets  fire  to  folks' 
houses." 

"  I  tell  thee,  young  man,  that  this  will  never  be  rebuilt." 

"  Oh,  yes  it  will,  in  six  months  !" 

"  God  d — n  you,  I  tell  you  it  won't,"  said  the  pattern  of  piety, 
forgetting,  in  his  zeal,  that  he  was  becoming  impious. 
••"There  goes  Don  Juan,"  said  Flynn,  as  another  folio  manu- 
script flew  into  the  air. 

"  He  burns  well,"  said  Finn,  "  but  I  thought  he  had  been  con- 
signed to  the  flames  long  since." 

"  There  goes  *  Breakers  Ahead,' "  said  Flynn. 

"  Yes,  and  here  come  breakers  behind,"  said  Finn,  as  some 
firemen  broke  through  the  crowd  with  an  engine. 

:)c  .ic  4:  ^  % 

Booth  arrived  at  the  theatre,  which  was  to  be  re-opened  at  re- 
duced prices  for  the  first  time  on  Monday  evening,  and  to  his 
astonishment,  found  the  building  in  ruins. 

Shortly  after  this  event,  an  entertainment  was  "got  up  "  at  the 
Park  Theatre,  for  the  benefit  of  the  sufferers  by  the  burning  of 
the  Bowery.  The  "  Merchant  of  Venice"  was  announced,  with 
Booth  as  Shyhck,  and  Mrs.  Flynn  as  Portia,  to  be  followed  by  the 
farce  of  "  The  Young  Widow,"  Mr.  Gates  playing  Splash.  A  large 
audience  assembled,  and  Mr.  Booth,  after  having  dressed  himself 
in  the  costume  of  Shylock,  disappeared  just  as  the  curtain  was 
about  to  rise.     Mr.  Clarke,  one  of  the  stock  actors,  was  substi- 


r 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  141 

tuted,  and  played  the  part  with  much  satisfaction  to  the  audience, 
he  being  one  of  the  best  readers  on  the  stage.  Flynn  went  in 
pursuit  of  Booth,  and  discovered  him  at  a  fire  in  William,  near 
Wall  street,  habited  in  his  Shylock  apparel,  and  laboring  at  an 
engine,  in  the  endeavor,  as  he  said,  to  "  save  people's  property 
from  destruction." 

Flynn  took  him  in  charge,  and  afterwards  contracted  an  en- 
gagement with  Wallack,  for  Booth  and  himself  to  play  in  con- 
junction, six  nights,  at  a  hundred  dollars  a  night. 

At  the  termination  of  this  engagement  at  the  National  Theatre, 
they  both  embarked  on  board  the  steamer  Neptune,  Capt.  Pen- 
noyer,  for  the  south,  on  a  professional  tour.  Soon  after  they  left 
the  wharf,  a  sailor  was  brought  on  board  the  vessel  much  intoxi- 
cated. Booth,  who  had  been  indulging  rather  freely  with  the 
"jolly  god,"  was  roaming  about  the  deck  half  crazy,  demanding 
to  know  where  his  bank  stock  and  family  were,  confounding  both 
with  quotations  from  Shakspere  and  Massinger. 

"  Sir,"  said  he  to  one  of  the  passengers, — 

"  Put  me  in  good  security, 
And  suddenly,  by  mortgage  or  by  statute. 
Or  some  of  your  new  possessions,  or  I'll  have  you 
Dragg'd  in  your  lavender  robes  to  the  gaol ;  you  know  me, 
And  therefore  do  not  trifle  ;" 

and  turning  around, 

"  I  have  set  my  life  upon  a  cast, 
And  I  will  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die.** 

He  committed  various  other  extravagances,  to  the  terror  of  the 
captain  and  passengers. 

After  they  had  been  at  sea  a  few  days,  Booth  went  to  Flynn  with 
an  air  of  profound  mystery,  and  observed,  "  Flynn,  when  we 


142  THE  actor; 

reach  the  spot  where  poor  Conway  perished,  tell  me,  as  I've  a 
message  for  him." 

Conway  was  a  tragedian  of  great  ability,  who  committed  sui- 
cide,  by  throwing  himself  into  the  sea,  and  of  whom  we  shall 
speak  anon. 

"  I'll  go  below,"  said  Booth,  "  and  try  to  sleep.  Tom,  don't 
forget  to  call  me  when  we  reach  the  spot,  for  I've  a  message  for 
Conway,  and  long  to  have  a  chat  with  him." 

Of  course  Flynn  did  not  disturb  his  slumbers,  but  when  the 
steamer  reached  the  bar  off  Charleston  harbor,  up  came  Booth, 
exclaiming,  "  I'm  just  going  to  see  Conway,"  and  jumped  over- 
board. The  sea  was  running  very  high,  but  the  boat  was  lowered, 
and  with  much  difficulty  Booth  was  rescued  from  a  watery 
grave. 

After  he  had  been  secured  in  the  boat,  his  first  words  were,  "  I 
say,  Tom,  look  out ;  you're  a  heavy  man ;  be  steady,  for  if  the 
boat  should  upset,  we'll  all  be  drowned,^' 

They  arrived  in  Charleston  and  opened  at  the  New  Theatre, 
being  its  first  season,  under  the  management  of  Latham  and  Ab- 
bott, in  "  A  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,"  to  a  crowded  house. 
Booth  playing  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  and  Flynn  MarralL  Booth 
was  announced  to  play  Richard  on  the  following  evening,  but 
after  the  performance  of  the  first  night  was  over,  he  went  with 
Flynn  to  Truesdale's  saloon,  took  an  oyster-supper,  and  they 
both  returned  to  their  lodgings  at  the  "  Planters'  Hotel." 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Booth  found  his  way  to 
Flynn's  room,  which  was  on  the  ground  floor,  got  through  the 
window,  went  to  the  chimney-place,  armed  himself  with  a  cast- 
iron  fire-dog,  and  inflicted  a  severe  wound  on  Flynn's  temple, 
over  his  right  eye.  Flynn  sprang  from  his  bed,  and  discovered 
the  tragedian  in  the  act  of  aiming  a  second  blow,  which,  in  en- 
deavoring to  avoid,  he  received  over  his  left  eye.  Finding  that  he 
had  to  deal  with  a  madman,  Flynn  escaped  fr«m  the  room,  Mr. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  143 

Booth  in  close  pursuit,  and  endeavoring  to  strike  him.  They 
finally  grappled  and  fell,  the  herculean  strength  of  Booth  while 
under  the  excitement  of  temporary  derangement,  giving  him  the 
advantage. 

In  the  melee,  Mr.  Booth  received  a  blow  upon  the  face,  which 
resulted  in  disfiguring  his  countenance,  by  breaking  the  bridge* 
of  his  nose. 

With  this  event  may  be  said  to  have  terminated  the  theatrical 
career  of  Booth,  which  we  have  thus  far  endeavored  continuously 
to  follow ;  although  still  often  manifesting  a  portion  of  the  fire 
and  energy  of  his  youthful  days,  yet  his  face,  which  previous  to 
this  catastrophe,  he  could  vary  to  every  form  of  expression,  by  it 
became  despoiled,  and  his  voice  assumed  a  nasal  sound,  to  which 
it  was  before  a  stranger. 

Since  that  period,  he  has  played  at  various  places  in  the  Union, 
but  we  shall  content  ourselves  with  noticing  but  one  other  engage- 
ment, in  1844,  at  which  time  the  drama  was  in  a  most  depressed 
condition,  owing  to  a  variety  of  circumstances. 

One  of  the  greatest  obstacles  to  its  success  in  this  country,  is 
the  absurd  and  ruinous  system  of  "  starring,''^  which  serves  to 
benefit  a  few,  to  the  detriment  of  the  many. 

An  actor  of  any  celebrity,  instead  of  performing  for  a  season 
for  a  fair  equivalent  for  his  services,  and  ending  his  engagement 
with  a  benefit,  as  is  the  practice  generally  in  Europe,  demands 
an  exorbitant  sum  for  each  performance,  during  a  period  of  six 
nights,  closing  with  a  benefit  on  the  seventh,  and  custom  having 
sanctioned  the  usage,  managers  are  compelled  to  accede  to  the 
arrangement. 

Thus  Mr.  Macready,  or  Mr.  C.  Kean  often  realizes  as  much 

*  This  reminds  us  of  an  observation  once  made  by  one  of  Booth's  admir- 
ers. "  I  like  Booth  very  well,"  said  he,  "but  I  could  never  get  over  that 
nose."     "  No  wonder,"  replied  a  wag,  **  the  bridge  is  broken." 


144  THE  actor; 

for  the  labor  of  six  nights,  as  Mr.  Placide  obtains  for  playing 
during  the  entire  year,  and  yet  in  his  particular  line  of  charac- 
ters, he  exhibits  as  much  ability  and  more  genius  than  either,  in 
their  several  departments  of  acting. 

In  addition  to  the  injustice  of  the  system,  there  is  another  evil 
that  results  from  it ;  the  greater  portion  of  the  profits  arising  from 
theatres  is  appropriated  to  the  star,  and  consequently,  as  the 
salaries  of  the  stock  actors  are  necessarily  inconsiderable,  they 
are  generally  of  inferior  abilities,  men  of  sterling  talent  prefer- 
ring some  other  employment  to  that  which  requires  such  immense 
labor,  and  produces  hardly  sufficient  to  afford  them  a  livelihood. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  having  a  company  of  actors  who  are  ca- 
pable of  doing  justice  to  their  several  parts,  we  have  one  or  two 
characters  properly  represented,  and  the  others,  not  only  badly 
executed,  but  rendered  still  more  unsatisfactory,  by  the  contrast. 

Were  managers  but  aware  of  the  fact,  they  would  find  it  much 
more  to  their  interest  and  to  that  of  the  public,  to  abandon  the 
system  of  starring  entirely ;  by  this  means  a  full  company  of 
artistes  could  be  formed,  that  would  nightly  afford  an  intellectual 
entertainment  and  attract  large  audiences. 

A  portion  of  the  immense  sums  now  paid  to  stars,  applied  to 
appropriate  scenery  and  costumes,  and  to  the  production  of  ster- 
ling plays  on  a  liberal  scale  in  an  attractive  form,  would  ma- 
terially aid  the  cause  of  the  drama. 

The  extraordinary  success  which  attended  the  meagre  play  of 
"London  Assurance,"  and  the  still  more  indifferent  one  of 
"  Fashion,"*  owing  to  the  manner  in  which  they  were  put  upon 
the  stage,  is  a  sufficient  proof  of  what  the  result  would  be. 


*  This  piece,  which  cannot  with  propriety  be  called  a  comedy,  being  but 
a  re-production  of  Joe  Miller's  jests,  and  entirely  destitute  of  every  princi- 
ple of  dramatic  composition,  had  a  very  successful  run  at  the  Park  Theatre, 
owing  to  the  splendor  of  the  scenery  and  appropriateness  of  the  fixtures. 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  145 

As  we  before  remarked,  the  season  of  1844  was  a  gloomy  one 
for  theatricals  in  this  country,  the  playhouse  being  almost  entirely 
deserted. 

Booth  had  contracted  an  engagement  with  the  manager  of  the 
Park  Theatre,  to  play  six  nights  in  the  month  of  June,  at  fifty 
dollars  per  night,  and  according  to  agreement,  went  from  his 
place  of  residence  in  Baltimore,  and  played  on  five  occasions, 
but  on  the  evening  of  the  sixth,  the  manager  believing  him  inca- 
pacitated from  performing  by  an  over  indulgence  in  liquor,  had  a 
notice  placed  in  front  of  the  box  office,  stating  there  would  be  no 
performance  that  night. 

A  suit  was  instituted  by  the  manager,  in  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas.  From  the  evidence,  it  appeared  that  Booth  was  sober  on 
the  night  in  question,  and  at  the  door  in  time  to  perform.  The 
jury,  without  leaving  their  seats,  gave  a  verdict  for  the  defendant, 
and  the  manager  was  compelled  to  pay  the  costs. 

It  also  appeared  on  the  trial,  that  the  average  expenses  of  the 
theatre  were  about  two  hundred  and  fifly  dollars  per  night,  and 
the  average  receipts,  about  the  same  amount,  during  Mr.  Booth's 
engagement. 

Had  the  manager  devoted  the  same  care  and  expense  to  getting 
up  the  pieces,  that  were  lavished  on  Richard  the  Third,  during 
Charles  Kean's  engagement  the  following  season,  he  would  have 
found  a  different  result. 

Mr.  Kean's  engagement  of  sixteen  nights,  when  he  appeared 
successively  as  Richard,  yielded  upwards  of  sixteen  thousand 
dollars,  when,  as  every  one  knows  who  visits  the  theatre,  the  au- 
diences were  attracted  by  the  splendor  of  the  scenery  and  cos- 
tumes, Mr.  Kean  being  altogether  incompetent,  mentally  and 
physically,  to  do  justice  to  the  character. 

while  the  fine  old  comedies  of  Sheridan  and  Goldsmith,  produced  on  the 
same  boards,  in  the  ordinary  manner,  failed  to  draw  enough  people  together 
to  pay  the  expenses. 
,  7 


146  .  THE  ACTOK  ; 

What  Mr.  Booth's  success  would  have  been,  with  the  same 
advantages,  although  in  the  decline  of  life  and  but  a  shadow  of 
what  he  once  was,  we  leave  those  to  determine  who  have  wit- 
nessed his  triumphs  in  Richard,  in  smaller  theatres,  and  supported 
by  the  most  indifferent  actors. 


147 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Birth  of  Conway— His  first  appearance  as  an  actor — Engagement  at  the 
provincial  theatres — D^but  in  Dublin — Incident  at  the  Dublin  Theatre — 
First  appearance  in  London — His  reception — Banishment  from  the  me- 
tropolitan stage— Benefit  at  Bath — Hindrances  to  success  in  London-^ 
His  depression  of  mind — Departure  for  America — Dibut  in  New  York 
—Opinions  of  the  Press — Cooper  and  Conway  in  the  same  plays — Their 
success — Retirement  of  the  latter  from  the  stage — His  eccentric  habits 
—Departure  for  Charleston — His  suicide — Reflections  thereon. 

In  the  preceding  chapter,  we  promised  to  record  something  rela- 
tive to  Mr.  William  Augustus  Conway. 

This  splendid  actor  (for  such  he  certainly  was,  if  we  may 
credit  the  opinions  of  those  who  saw  him)  was  born  in  Henrietta 
street,  Cavendish  Square,  London,  in  the  year  1789,  and  received 
his  education  in  the  Island  of  Barbadoes,  to  which  place  he  was 
sent  at  an  early  period  of  his  life.  He  returned  at  the  age  of 
eighteen,  and  having  imbibed  a  love  of  the  histrionic  art  from 
witnessing  a  theatrical  performance,  made  his  first  appearance 
at  Chester,  as  Zanga  in  the  "  Revenge."  His  success  was  so 
complete,  that  the  manager,  Mr.  Macready  (father  of  the  trage- 
dian), offered  him  a  year's  engagement,  and  he  continued  playing 
at  Chester,  Manchester,  Sheffield,  Leicester,  Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne,  and  Birmingham,  until  his  increased  and  augmenting 
reputation  induced  Mr.  Jones,  of  the  Dublin  Theatre,  to  offer 


148  THE  actor; 

him  the  situation  made  vacant  by  the  departure  of  Mr.  Holman 
for  America. 

He  made  his  d^lut  in  Dublin,  in  1812,  and  commanded  a 
large  share  of  public  approbation.  This  fact  of  itself  is  a 
sufficient  evidence  of  his  ability  as  an  actor,  the  fiat  of  a  Dublin 
audience  being  regarded  as  an  umpire  from  which  there  is  no 
appeal. 

It  was  here  also,  that  Miss  O'Neill,  a  short  time  previous, 
introduced  her  splendid  talents  to  the  public  attention,  and  in 
conjunction  with  Conway,  met  with  the  most  extraordinary 
success. 

During  their  performance  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  on  the 
occasion  of  Miss  O'Neill's  first  representation  of  the  latter  cha- 
racter in  Dublin,  a  ludicrous  circumstance  occurred.  The 
balcony,  in  the  garden  scene,  was  particularly  low,  and  Conway, 
who  was  remarkably  tall,  in  delivering  the  lines  : — 

"  Oh  !  that  I  were  a  glove  upon  that  hand. 
That  I  might  touch  that  cheek  ;" 

laid  his  hand  upon  the  balcony.  A  fellow  in  the  gallery  imme- 
diately roared  out,  "  Get  out  wid  your  blarney  ;  why  don't  you 
touch  her,  then,  and  not  be  praching  Parson  Saxe  there  ?" 

After  having  won  the  unqualified  approbation  of  the  Irish 
audiences,  he  left  Dublin,  and  played  successfully  at  Liverpool 
and  Birmingham. 

Being  of  extraordinary  stature,  well  proportioned,  and  emi- 
nently handsome,  a  critic  in  speaking  of  his  first  appearance  at 
Birmingham,  remarked,  that  "  he  opened  in  Othello  to  hide  his 
rising  beauty  from  the  sun." 

On  the  fourth  of  October,  1814,  he  made  his  first  appearance 
in  London,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  as  Alexander  the  Great, 
and  was  received  with  the  most  distinguished  approbation.  His 
majestic  port  and  graceful  form  were  of  great  advantage  in  his 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  149 

representation  of  the  warlike  and  triumphant  monarch,  and  on 
the  night  of  his  debut,  he  at  once  established  himself  in  the  good 
opinion  of  his  audience.  He  afterwards  played  Othello,  Jaffier^ 
Coriolanus,  and  a  variety  of  parts  in  the  higher  walks  of  tragedy. 
In  genteel  comedy,  too,  he  acquired  an  enviable  reputation. 
^  Miss  O'Neill,  also,  made  her  first  appearance  before  the  same 
audience,  in  Juliet,  Conway  playing  Romeo,  She  afterwards 
appeared  as  Behidera  and  Monimia,  Conway  personating  Jaffier 
and  Polydore,  Their  success  was  extraordinary  at  first,  and 
that  of  the  lady  continued  to  be  so ;  but  Conway,  who  was  of  an 
excessively  nervous  temperament,  from  various  causes,  among 
which  was  the  wanton  maliciousness  of  several  hirelings  of  the 
press,  retired  from  the  metropolitan  stage. 

In  a  criticism  published  in  a  theatrical  work,  issued  in  London 
in  1820,  we  meet  with  the  following: — 

**  Mr.  Conway's  benefit  on  Saturday  (at  the  Bath  Theatre) 
was  patronized  by  as  splendid  an  audience,  both  in  point  of 
numbers  and  fashion,  as  ever  graced  the  theatre.  Driven  from 
the  London  boards  by  a  profligate  exercise  of  pernicious  power, 
this  gentleman  may  be  adduced  as  a  lamentable  proof  of  the 
cruelty  and  injustice  to  which  criticism  can  be  taught  to  extend, 
I  know  enough  of  Mr.  Conway  to  aver,  that  his  ambition  has 
been  rather  bent  upon  the  pursuit  of  excellence  than  the  posses- 
sion of  applause  ;  and  though  sacrificed  to  a  greedy  and  abomi- 
nable Moloch,  that  his  banishment  from  the  metropolis  has  nc^ 
induced  him  to  relax  his  assiduity,  or  relinquish  his  research.  I 
do  not  think  it  probable  that  Mr.  Conway  will  again  expose 
himself  to  the  infamous  scurrility  by  which  he  has  been  already 
assailed,  but  should  his  pretension  re-appeal  to  the  scrutiny  of  a 
London  audience,  rely  upon  it  that  neither  Hunt  nor  Hazlitt  will 
succeed  in  a  renewal  of  their  coarse  and  cowardly  invective." 


150  THE   ACTOR  ; 

It  was  at  this  period  that  the  Kembles  were  in  the  meridian  of 
their  fame,  and  as  they  almost  monopolized  the  attention  of  the 
patrons  of  the  drama,  they  proved  a  formidable  obstacle  to  his 
success. 

In  addition  to  this,  a  ferocious  vagabond  by  the  name  of  Hooke, 
who,  at  that  period,  was  the  dramatic  executioner  of  a  paper 
called  the  "  John  Bull,"  attacked  him  with  all  the  virulence  of 
which  his  knavish  disposition  was  susceptible. 

The  extraordinary  height  of  Conway  opened  a  fine  field  for 
the  satirical  powers  of  Hooke,  and  to  the  malice  of  this  hireling 
of  the  press,  as  much  as  to  any  other  cause,  may  be  attributed 
the  loss  of  spirit  and  confidence  which  Conway  experienced,  and 
that  depression  of  mind  which  broke  his  heart,  and  resulted  in 
his  death. 

It  is  an  old  saying,  and  time  and  experience  have  verified  its 
truth,  that  "  misfortunes  never  come  singly."  Conway,  who  was 
nervous  and  sensitive  to  the  last  degree,  contracted  an  unfor- 
tunate attachment  to  Miss  O'Neill,  which,  not  being  reciprocated, 
filled  up  the  measure  of  his  despair. 

He  became  the  victim  of  a  misanthropical  afiection — a  species 
of  monomania,  that  induced  some  of  the  most  absurd  and  incon- 
gruous conclusions.  Believing  that  there  was  a  systematic 
determination  among  the  celebrated  actors  of  his  time,  to  crush 
him,  he  abandoned  the  stage,  where  he  was  in  the  receipt  of 
twenty  and  thirty  pounds  per  week,  and  acted  in  the  capacity  of 
prompter,  for  as  many  shillings. 

In  the  latter  part  of  1823,  he  sailed  for  America,  and  on  the 
twelfth  of  January,  1824,  opened  in  New  York,  at  the  Park 
Theatre,  as  Hamlet,  and  met  with  a  reception  quite  as  enthusi- 
astic as  was  lavished  on  Cooke  and  Kean,  when  they  first 
appeared. 

After  enacting  Coriolanus,  Bertram,  Lord  Townley  ("  Provoked 


J 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND  THE    CTTRTAIN.  151 

Husband  "),  Hamet  ("  Conquest  of  Taranto "),  and  Romeo,  he 
appeared  as  Beverly  in  the  "  Gamester,"  and  Petruchio  in  the 
"  Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  for  his  benefit,  to  a  large  and  fashion- 
able audience,  Miss  Beverly  and  Katharine  being  represented  by- 
Miss  Johnson.*  The  house,  on  this  occasion,  yielded  him  sixteen 
hundred  dollars,  and  the  performance  went  oiF  with  great  eclat. 

Among  the  notices  of  the  event  that  were  elicited  from  the 
press,  we  select  the  following  : — 

"  In  the  haughty  and  scornful  Coriolanus,  '  walking  with 
proud  patrician  steps  the  streets  of  Rome ;'  in  the  melancholy 
and  fitful  Hamlet ;  the  misanthropical  Bertram ;  and  the  ardent 
lover  of  the  fair  Capulet,  he  has  acquitted  himself  in  a  masterly 
manner,  and  retired  amidst  the  most  cheering  applause.  Both 
as  an  actor  and  a  gentleman,  Mr.  Conway  is  entitled  to  the 
respect  of  all  the  friends  and  patrons  of  the  drama." 

•  Immediately  after  this  engagement,  Mr.  Cooper,  who  was  then 
a  great  favorite  with  the  New  Yorkers,  appeared,  and  an  arrange- 
ment being  made  with  the  two  actors  to  play  in  conjunction,  they 
opened  in  February,  in  "  Venice  Preserved,"  Cooper  playing 
Pierre,  and  Conway,  Jaffier. 

We  extract  the  following  notice  of  their  performance  from  one 
of  the  papers  of  the  ensuing  day  : — 

"  Last  evening  these  gentlemen  appeared  before  a  thronged 
house,  Conway  in  Jaffier,  and  Cooper  in  Pierre,  Both  of  these 
characters  are  admirably  suited  for  the  display  of  tragic  genius,  and 

*  This  lady  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Mr.  Thomas  Hilson,  one  of 
the  finest  comedians  that  ever  graced  the  stage.  After  his  death,  she 
was  indebted  to  the  generosity  of  Mr.  Edmund  Simpson,  for  comfort  and 
consolation  in  her  widowed  life,  who,  having  been  a  warm  friend  of  her 
husband,  gave  her  a  home  at  his  house,  where  she  died. 


152  THE  actor; 

in  both  it  was  admirably  exhibited.  In  the  first  interview,  the 
peculiar  character  of  each  was  finely  developed.  The  gallant 
bearing  and  sarcastic  indignation  of  Cooper ;  his  tone  of  bitter 
irony  when  he  speaks  of  the  Senate ;  the  art  with  which  he  stirs 
up  the  spirit  of  Jaffier,  at  once  gave  a  stamp  of  truth  and  energy 
to  the  part.  The  dejected  demeanor  of  Conway  at  first ;  the  des- 
perate resignation  to  his  unhappy  destiny ;  the  hurried  and  eager 
play  of  his  features  and  attitude  of  sudden  resolution  when  Pierre 
excites  him  to  vengeance;  the  tenderness  with  which  he  soon 
after  folds  Belvidera  to  his  broken  heart ;  the  wasting  denuncia- 
tion he  pours  forth  against  her  inexorable  father,  were  all  executed 
in  the  style  of  a  master.  ^-^ 

"  Cooper  threw  out  his  greatest  fire  in  the  scene  where  he 
defends  the  honor  of  his  friend.  There  was  a  majestic  daring  in 
his  carriage,  a  dauntlessness  in  his  glance  and  in  the  swell  of  his 
whole  figure,  that  might  have  made  the  conspirators  quail.  The 
noble  confidence  with  which  he  vouched  for  Jaffier's  honor  was 
perhaps  surpassed  by  his  agony  of  surprise  when  he  afterwards 
learns  that  his  friend  has  indeed  betrayed  him.  In  the  subsequent 
interview,  both  sustained  their  respective  characters  to  perfec- 
tion. :4.^.U0iiiW  ^iJili-Jti-y'l    rf     '-^iiv. 

"  It  is  a  long  while  since  our  theatre  presented  such  splendid 
attractions  as  it  received  from  the  combined  talents  of  Conway 
and  Cooper ;  and  we  cannot  omit  saying,  that  our  gratification 
with  their  respective  performances  was  enhanced  by  observing 
the  cordiality  with  which  they  seconded  each  other  ;  it  was  as 
honorable  to  their  liberality  of  feeling,  as  their  reputation  is  to 
their  talents." 

This  was  succeeded  by  "  Othello,"  Conway  playing  *'  The 
Moar/'  and  Cooper  lago ;  "King  Lear,"  with  Cooper  as  the 
monarch,  and  Conway  as  Edgar ;   the  "  Fair  Penitent,"    with 


OR,   A    PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  153 

Conway  as  Horatio,  and  Cooper  as  Lothario,     The  house  was 
nightly  crowded,  and  they  played  together  with  great  »success. 

During  the  engagement,  in  addition  to  the  characters  before 
enumerated,  they  appeared  in  conjunction  in  *•  King  John,"  the 
"  School  for  Scandal,"  "  Julius  Csesar,"  and  the  "  Orphan." 

From  New  York,  Mr.  Conway  proceeded  to  Boston,  where  he 
played  with  equal  success. 

During  the  following  month.  Cooper  and  Conway  were  re- 
engaged in  New  York,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  where  Conway 
played  the  various  parts  that  Cooper  had  enacted,  and  the  latter 
gentleman  assumed  those  that  his  brother  player  had  previously 
performed. 

It  was  about  this  period,  that  Mr.  Macready  was  expected  in 
this  country,  and  his  anticipated  appearance  proved  a  powerful 
source  of  anxiety  to  Mr.  Conway,  who  experienced  the  most  sad 
foreboding  on  the  consummation  of  that  event,  confidently  believing 
that  Mr.  Macready  was  visiting  the  country  for  the  "  purpose  of 
crushing  him." 

His  nervous  system  having  become  excessively  deranged,  he 
bade  a  final  adieu  to  the  stage,  and  abandoned  himself  to  all  the 
imaginary  terrors  that  his  monomania  inspired.  He  became 
negligent  in  his  habits  and  appearance,  and  might  often  be  seen 
(for  it  was  his  "  usual  custom  in  the  afternoon")  riding  up  the 
Bowery,  in  a  dilapidated  vehicle,  which  might  once  have  been 
called  a  wagon,  drawn  by  a  white  horse,  who  seemed  as  reckless 
and  careworn  as  his  master.  His  own  dress  was  in  keeping 
with  the  establishment,  having  fallen  into  the  "  sere  and  yellow 
leaf." 

His  mind,  which  had  become  deranged  from  its  natural  course, 

finally  fastened  on  the  subject  of  religion,  and  he  devoted  himself 

with  great  assiduity  to  the  ministry.     After  preaching  several 

beautiful  discourses,  he  left  New  York  for  Charleston. 

I       During  the  voyage,  he  manifested  a  great  depression  of  mind, 

7* 


154  THE  actor; 

and  when  the  vessel  had  arrived  at  the  bar  of  Charleston,  he  was 
seen  in  the  cabin,  making  a  memorandum  (which  was  afterwards 
found  to  be  addressed  to  his  mother)  in  the  blank  leaf  of  his  bible, 
when  suddenly  he  went  on  deck,  a  splash  in  the  water  was  heard, 
and  poor  Conway  was  seen  no  more. 

The  religious  fanatic  who  consigns  to  eternal  torture  the 
victims  of  suicide,  knows  little  of  the  human  heart.  Instead  of 
exciting  surprise  at  the  occurrence  of  such  events,  it  is  to  us  a 
matter  of  astonishment  that  so  many  have  courage  to  live  on, 
in  hopeless,  irremediable  misery.  The  tortures  of  the  body, 
though  often  keen  enough,  are  nothing  compared  to  the  agonies 
of  mind  endured  by  hearts  stung  with  disappointment,  or  lacerated 
by  neglect. 

Mr.  Conway  had  "  won  golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  peo- 
ple;"  he  had  every  apparent  means  of  enjoyment  at  his  command, 
but  like  the  waveless  and  mirrored  stream,  that  seems  so  placid 
and  motionless  on  its  surface,  while  a  resistless  current  is  running 
below,  and  the  whitened  bones  of  the  shipwrecked  voyagers  are 
mouldering  at  its  bottom,  even  thus,  beneath  the  calmness  and 
serenity  of  his  countenance,  the  tide  of  crushed  hope  and  despair 
were  coursing  through  his  heart. 

As  an  actor,  he  is  said  to  have  possessed  but  very  little  genius, 
but  the  most  extraordinary  talent ;  like  Mr.  Macready,  manifest- 
ing a  great  degree  of  artistical  finish,  but  exhibiting  none  of  those 
brilliant  and  startling  evidences  of  originality,  which  have  ren- 
dered Kean  and  Booth  so  famous. 

When  off  the  stage,  he  was  unobtrusive  and  reserved  in  his 
demeanor,  but  generally  esteemed  by  those  who  knew  him.  In 
the  words  of  the  poet : — 

"  The  recollection  of  his  worth  will  be 
A  fadeless  halo  round  his  memory." 


155 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  Glance  at  the  Olympic  Theatre — Its  Presiding  Deity— Mr.  Mitchell's 
Early  Days — His  First  Theatrical  Aspirations — Their  Effect — First  Ap- 
pearance on  the  Stage — Engagement  in  London — Critiques  on  his  Per- 
formance of  Jem  Bags — Anecdote  of  Mitchell  and  Jerrold — Mitchell  in 
Raggs — Embarcation  for  America — Olympic — Opening  Address — His 
Musical  Taste,  &c. 

In  mentioning  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Mitchell  in  this  country,  in  a 
previous  chapter,  we  intended  to  have  gathered  material  sufficient 
for  a  biographical  sketch  ;  as  it  is,  however,  we  can  only  bestow 
a  glance  at  the  "  Olympic  Manager." 

In  what  was  once  the  upper,  but  is  now  the  central  part  of 
Broadway,  stands  a  neat  and  showy  building.  There  is  a  bal- 
cony in  front,  and  red  curtains  hanging  gracefully  at  the  various 
windows.  A  conspicuous  sign  with  the  words,  "  Olympic 
Theatre,"  announces  to  the  stranger  the  purpose  of  the  building ; 
the  denizens  of  Gotham  require  no  such  aid ;  every  one  knows 
where  the  "  Olympic"  is. 

Mr.  Mitchell  is  the  presiding  deity,  combining  in  himself  the 
double  character  of  manager  and  actor.  In  both,  he  is  sui  generis, 
for  in  the  former  capacity  he  does  not  recognize  the  starring 
system,  which  has  proved  one  of  the  greatest  obstacles  to  the 
success  of  the  drama  in  this  country,  and  in  the  latter,  he  is  per- 
fectly unique  and  original. 

Mr.  Mitchell  made  his  debut  on  the  stage  of  life  in  1798,  in 
Durham,  England,  but  whp  his  father  or  mother  was,  or  is,  is  ^ 


156  THE   ACTOR  ; 

matter  of  which  we  know  nothing,  and  in  which  the  reader  would 
feel  but  little  interest. 

Equally  ignorant  are  we  of  Mr.  Mitchell's  early  pursuits. 
We  have  understood,  however,  from  good  authority,  that  at 
Richmond,  Yorkshire,  Mr.  Mitchell  first  imbibed  a  love  for  theat- 
ricals. 

Passing  the  theatre  one  morning,  and  seeing  the  doors  open, 
curiosity  induced  him  to  venture  in.  It  was  during  a  rehearsal, 
and  Mr.  Samuel  Butler,  the  tragedian,  attracted  his  particular 
attention. 

After  several  successive  visits,  he  was  discovered  violating  the 
rules  of  the  establishment,  and  a  polite  request  was  made  to  him 
to  discontinue  them. 

He  had  seen  enough,  however,  to  wish  to  see  more,  and  ac- 
cordingly, he  went  to  the  theatre  at  night,  to  witness  the  regular 
performance.  Any  one  who  recollects  his  own  first  attendance  at 
the  play,  can  easily  conceive  the  effect  of  a  first  regular  theatrical 
representation  on  a  mind  like  that  of  the  Olympic  manager. 

There  is  a  perfect  charm  and  novelty  about  it,  that  commends 
itself  to  the  senses.  The  lights,  the  scenery,  the  music,  and  the 
well-dressed  people  in  the  boxes — are  all  calculated  to  make  an 
indelible  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  novice.  Certainly  it  did 
on  that  of  Mr.  Mitchell,  and  it  was  here,  probably,  that  his  first 
theatrical  aspirations  began. 

A  short  time  after,  he  was  engaged  in  the  counting-room  of  a 
merchant  at  Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  where,  for  six  years,  he 
remained,  although  his  avocation  was  far  from  congenial  to  his 
taste  and  disposition. 

During  his  mercantile  apprenticeship,  he  joined  a  private 
Thespian  corps,  with  whom,  if  he  did  not  acquire  any  extraordi- 
nary knowledge  of  the  art  which  he  afterwards  adopted  as  a 
profession,  he  gleaned  some  new  facts  in  the  history  of  life. 

At  length,  weary  of  the  drudgery  of  a  counting-room,  he 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  157 

abandoned  it,  and  made  his  first  regular  appearance  on  any  stage 
at  Newcastle,  as  the  Country  Boy  in  the  "  Recruiting  Officer," 
in  which  he  was  highly  successful.  The  second  night,  his  per- 
formance of  Sam,  in  "  Raising  the  Wind,"  decided  his  professional 
fate. 

After  performing  in  a  variety  of  places,  and  enduring  all  the 
inconveniences  and  annoyances  to  which  the  life  of  a  strolling 
player  is  subject,  he  obtained  a  situation  in  Mr.  De  Camp's  com- 
pany, at  Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  His  prospects  now  began  to 
brighten,  and  for  two  seasons  he  played  in  almost  every  variety 
of  character,  and  with  increased  success. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  state  here,  that  Mr.  Mitchell  afterwards 
became  the  manager  of  the  circuit  of  theatres,  then  under  the 
control  of  De  Camp. 

He  shortly  after  performed  at  Sheffield,  Newcastle,  and 
various  other  towns  in  the  circuit  of  Alexander,  then  manager  of 
the  Edinburgh  Theatre. 

In  1831,  he  visited  London,  and  opened  at  the  Strand  Theatre, 
in  a  very  subordinate  part,  the  manager  having  but  an  indifferent 
opinion  of  his  capacities  as  an  actor. 

Managers,  however,  like  other  people,  are  not  always  correct 
in  their  judgments, 

"  Their  doubts  are  traitors  to  them." 

Still,  there  were  persons  present  who  perceived  and  appreciated 
Mitchell's  abilities  ;  among  others,  Mr.  Leman  Rede,  who,  in  the 
endeavor  to  bring  him  into  notice,  wrote  a  piece  expressly  for 
him,  entitled  "  Professionals  Puzzled,"  which  was  received  with 
decided  approbation. 

His  position  as  an  actor  now  daily  became  more  satisfactory  to 
himself  and  friends,  and  the  commendations  of  the  London  critics 
were  warm  and  numerous.     The  Weekly  Dispatch,  in  noticing 


158  THE   ACTOR  ; 

his  performance  of  Jem  Bags,  in  the  "Wandering  Minstrel,'* 
said : — 

"  He  is  inimitable.  His  acting  is  the  raciest  thing  we  ever  saw 
upon  the  stage,  and  he  does  not  lose  sight  for  one  moment  of  the 
rich  part  he  is  embodying.  The  piece  was  intended  for  Reeve, 
but  we  defy  him  to  have  made  of  the  part  one  tenth  of  what 
Mitchell  renders  it." 

In  1834,  he  was  engaged  at  the  Coburg,  where  he  filled  the 
double  capacity  of  actor  and  stage  manager. 

The  London  Examiner,  which  is  regarded  as  high  authority  in 
theatrical  matters,  thus  noticed  his  performance  of  the  character 
alluded  to  above  : — 

"  We  have  never  seen  anything  so  perfect — dress,  voice,  walk, 
manner,  the  quintessence  of  squalid  blackguardism  ;  the  picture 
of  him  on  the  walls  affords  no  adequate  notion  of  the  personation ; 
he  looks  as  if  an  extra  pound  of  soap,  and  a  new  small  tooth 
comb  would  be  requisite  to  all  who  came  within  a  yard  of  him." 

The  following  anecdote  will  show  the  ready  wit  of  Mr.  Mitch- 
ell, and  give  our  readers  a  slight  inkling  of  his  character. 

When  he  left  the  provinces,  to  try  his  future  career  in  the 
great  metropolis,  he  luckily  secured  an  engagement  at  one  of  the 
minor  theatres. 

Douglas  Jerrold,  the  popular  writer  of  the  Caudle  Lectures, 
was  the  author  for  the  same  establishment ;  soon  after  Mr. 
Mitchell's  appearance  here,  Mr.  Jerrold  produced  a  piece,  the 
name  of  which  we  have  forgotten.  Under  the  terms  of  his  ar- 
rangement with  the  manager,  Mr.  Mitchell  was  entitled  to  the 
part  of  RaggSf  but  he  was  just  from  the  provinces,  and  unknown 
alike  to  the  public  and  the  author.  The  latter  was  anxious  that 
Keeley  should  enact  the  character,  and  to  this  proposal  Mitchell 
demurred.     This  excited  the  ire  of  Jerrold,  and  the  actor  was 


OR,    A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE    CURTAIN.  159 

sent-  for  to  the  manager's  office,  to  receive  a  reprimand  from  the 
incensed  author.  Jerrold  commenced  by  making  some  remarks 
about  the  impertinence  of  provincial  actors,  and  their  absurd 
pretensions,  when  Mr.  Mitchell  reminded  him  that  he  must  speak 
to  him  as  a  gentleman,  or  he  should  treat  him  as  he  had  served 
the  manager  two  days  previous — that  is,  flog  him.  This,  how- 
eve  r,  was  not  calculated  to  allay  the  ill  feelings  of  the  author, 
and  he  remarked  to  Mitchell  that  he  would  "  write  him  down — he 
would  live  to  be  revenged ;"  to  which  threat  Mr.  Mitchell  pithily 
replied  that  Mr.  Jerrold  would  "  doubtless  live  to  be  revenged, 
for  he  would  see  him  in  Raggs  and  be  glad  of  it." 

Jerrold  was  not  the  man  to  resist  this,  and  grasping  the  hand 
of  Mitchell,  said  he  should  play  the  part ;  Mr.  Mitchell  did  so, 
and  made  it  one  of  the  most  popular  things  of  the  day.  Mr. 
Jerrold  has  since  been  one  of  Mitchell's  warmest  friends. 

In  June,  1836,  Mr.  Mitchell  embarked  for  America,  with  Mr. 
Flynn,  by  whom  he  was  engaged  for  the  National  Theatre,  New 
York,  and  opened  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  August,  in  the  "  Wan- 
dering Minstrel,"  and  "  The  Man  with  the  Carpet  Bag." 

Mr.  Mitchell's  claims  as  a  delineator  of  low  comedy  were  at 
once  recognized,  and  his  performance  of  Jem  Bags  established 
him  high  in  the  estimation  of  the  lovers  of  the  comic  muse. 

In  September,  1637,  the  Olympic  Theatre  was  opened,  but 
whether  under  the  management  of  Mitchell  or  otherwise  we  have 
forgotten.  Here,  however,  is  the  address  delivered  on  the  occa- 
sion, which  will  be  new  to  the  reader  : — 

•*  ADDRESS. 

"  We  hail  the  light !  the  light  that  earliest  shone 
O'er  domes  with  moss  and  ivy  now  o'ergrown  ; 
Which  o'er  created  Greece  in  Glory  broke 
(While  primal  darkness  quail'd  beneath  its  stroke), 
Gilt  with  its  beams  th'  JEgean's  mirror  bright, 
And  shone  resplendent  from  Olympus'  height ; 


160  ^HE  ACTOR  ; 

Then  Art  upreared  her  temples  to  the  sky. 
Then  gleamed  thy  mellowed  light,  Philosophy  ! 
'Till  Learning's  tones  through  every  hamlet  breathed, 
Fair  poesy  her  fadeless  garlsind  wreathed ; 
And  Intellect  her  daring  wing  unfurled, 
To  soar  exulting  o'er  a  raptured  world. 

«*  *Mid  scenes  like  these  to  life  the  Drama  sprung. 
Fire  in  her  soul  and  Music  on  her  tongue  ; 
Chased  from  the  mind  its  real  woes  away. 
And  flashed  thereon  Illusion's  brightening  ray; 
Bid  iron  Care  before  her  smile  depart ; 
And  poured  Joy's  waters  on  the  thirsty  heart — 
Lent  charms  to  Language,  eloquence  to  song, 
'Till  waked  to  ecstasy  th'  admiring  throng  ! 
Humor,  to  woo  us  from  each  leaden  trance, — 
And  Wit,  to  light  with  smiles  each  countenance ; 
'Till  'neath  her  feet  their  tribute  wreaths  were  strown. 
Her  joys  they  shared,  her  smiles  were  all  their  own. 
And  Greece,  from  Hellas'  tide  to  border  wave. 
Though  sternly  free,  was  yet  the  Drama's  slave. 

"  Proudly  she  rose — the  cynosure  of  Mind — 
Nor  left  she  aught  in  her  high  course  behind  ; 
Skyward  eareering,  still  the  Drama  soared. 
And  wide  o'er  Earth  a  quickening  radiance  poured  ; 
Till  spire  and  column  marked  the  reign  of  Art, 
And  soft  Refinement  ruled  the  swelling  heart ; 
Till  Man's  free  soul,  exulting  spurned  the  clod. 
And  felt  the 'spell  which  woos  it  up  to  God. 

"  Her  voice  was  heard  within  the  mimic  bowers. 
Where  Comus'  votaries  led  the  laughing  hours. 
And  many  an  eye  which  grief  had  rudely  wrung. 
Flashed  Joy's  own  sunbeams  when  Thalia  sung ; 
While  bright-eyed  Mirth  joined  Pleasure's  jocund  train. 
And  danced  in  keeping  to  the  Musal  strain ; 
Or  laughed  with  Thespis,  'till  the  wondering  throng, 
Bound  by  the  thrall  of  Satire,  Wit  and  Song, 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  161 

Caught  from  the  Actor  all  the  Poet's  fire, 
And  blessed  the  sway  they  felt  but  to  admire ; 
While  to  their  fixed  and  fervid  gaze  was  shown 
Two  brighter  worlds — the  Drama's  and  their  own  ! 

"  Friends  of  the  Stage,  the  laughing  Muse  is  Ours, 
And  bids  you  welcome  from  her  throne  of  flowers. 
She  bids  you  hail !  Not  in  the  pensive  mood. 
Which  palls  the  soul  with  deeds  of  guilt  and  blood. 
Her's  is  the  power,  the  balmy  power  of  Art, 
To  soothe  the  passions  and  improve  the  heart ; 
She  smiling  waits  to  charm  you  with  her  skill, 
And  malce  her  power  subservient  to  your  will. 
And  when  all  other  notes  are  little  worth, 
To  give  you  hers,  endorsed  and  signed  by  Mirth, 
Throw  wide  her  vaults  and  with  a  liberal  hand. 
What  the  Mils  call  for.  Pay  upon  Demand, 
Present  your  claim,  she'll  surely  pay  the  debt, — 
JSTo  pressure  here  will  she  or  we  regret. 
She  courts  a  run,  if  we  in  turn  may  draw. 
Your  check  her  guide,  your  smile  or  frown  her  law. 
True  !  these  are  times  of  dark  and  dire  portent. 
And  money  brings  a  Shylock-like  per  cent ; 
Nay,  it  is  said  the  Olympic  may  not  hope. 
With  times  like  these  successfully  to  cope. 

"  Friends  of  the  drama  !  pointing  skyward  now. 

We  ask  a  wreath  to  deck  the  Drama's  brow. 

Let  them  no  ivy  with  Joy's  laurels  twine. 

No  dregs  of  sorrow  mingle  with  Mirth's  wine — 

We  bid  you  here  to  laugh,  and  not  to  weep  ; 

To  wake  your  Mirth,  and  hush  your  Cares  to  sleep  ; 

This  will  we  do,  and  trust  your  smiles  to  win, 

We  will  pay  out,  so  long  as  you  pay  in.^' 

The  musical  taste  of  Mr.  Mitchell  is  best  shown  by  the  fact, 
that  the  Olympic  is  famous  for  its  successful  production  of  Tra- 
vesties of  the  best  operas,  and  has  enabled  the  manager  to  con- 
centrate as  much  melody  in  a  small  compass,  as  ever  regaled  the 


162  THE   ACTOR  ; 

ears  of  our  music  loving  citizens.  We  recollect,  when  "  Amilie "' 
was  produced  at  the  National  by  the  ShirrefF  troupe,  and  played 
every  night  consecutively,  for  many  weeks,  seeing  the  future 
ruler  of  the  "  Olympic  Games  "  snugly  ensconced  in  the  orches- 
tra, gazing  with  admiring  eyes  on  the  fascinating  Shirreff, 
actually  rubbing  his  hands  with  delight,  and  breaking  out  occa- 
sionally with  a  hearty  "  bravo,"  to  the  astonishment  and  dis- 
pleasure of  the  savage  looking  leader.  We  regarded  him  at  the 
lime  as  "  music  mad ;"  but  it  appears  that  he  still  retains  all  the 
enthusiasm  he  then  evinced,  for  we  have  listened  to  the  admirable 
imitation  of  the  same  opera,  known  as  "  Amy  Lee,"  and  ex- 
perienced almost  as  much  gratification  as  when  witnessing  the 
original. 

The  most  successful  piece  ever  produced  at  the  Olympic,  and 
which  first  brought  the  theatre  prominently  before  the  public, 
was  the  "  Savage  and  the  Maiden,"  dramatized  from  Dickens' 
"  Nicholas  Nickleby." 

Mr.  Mitchell's  personation  of  Crummies  at  once  ensured  the 
success  of  the  piece,  and  he  became,  in  its  literal  sense,  *^  Mana- 
ger Crummies,"  producing  a  variety  of  "  prodigies,"  that  have 
delighted  the  crowded  audiences  of  the  little  Olympic,  and  filled 
the  capacious  pockets  of  its  successful  manager. 


163 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  American  Drama—Obstacles  to  its  success — Prejudices  against  the 
theatre— Its  uses  and  abuses — Abolishment  of  the  "  third  tier"— Theatri- 
cal licenses — Characteristics  of  the  Americans — Dependence  on  England 
for  their  opinions— The  Cushmans— Forrest— His  Shaksperian  efforts- 
European  actors— Native  performers— Charles  H.  Eaton — Performance 
of  Richard — His  accident  and  the  cause — His  death — The  performances 
of  American  actors  considered— Peculiarities  of  style — Shakspere  abused 
— The  incongruities  of  his  pieces  as  represented — Performance  of  *'  Wil- 
liam Tell" — Ludicrous  termination  of  the  scene. 

In  some  of  the  previous  pages  of  this  work,  we  have  hinted  at  the 
absurd  system  of  starring  as  being  ruinous  to  a  majority  of  our 
actors,  and  an  impediment  to  the  success  of  theatricals  in  our 
country. 

However  great  may  have  been  our  progress  in  literature  and 
the  arts,  the  American  stage  has  for  years  made  but  little  or  no 
advancement. 

Great  as  is  our  reverence  for  Shakspere,  we  confess  that  had 
the  representation  of  his  plays  been  confined  to  Europe,  it  would 
have  been  more  favorable  to  the  growth  of  our  own  Drama. 

While  every  original  play  is  subject  to  comparison  with  those 
of  the  "  poet  of  all  time,"  it  can  hardly  be  expected  that  the  pro- 
ductions of  our  native  authors  will  find  any  extraordinary  degree 
of  favor  with  those  who  visit  the  theatre.  The  plays  of  Shak- 
spere, too,  which  only  require  that  the  language  be  read  with 
good  emphasis  and  discretion  to  make  them  attractive,  are  much 


164  THE  actor; 

more  easily  put  upon  the  stage,  than  the  efforts  of  our  native 
authors,  of  which  fact  the  comedy  of  "  Fashion"  is  an  instance, 
requiring  all  the  embellishments  of  scenery  and  dress  to  make  it 
at  all  endurable. 

Another  obstacle  to  the  success  of  the  drama  in  our  country,  is 
the  appropriation  of  a  certain  portion  of  the  house  to  abandoned 
women.  Never,  while  this  feature  in  the  system  of  our  play- 
houses exists,  will  the  theatre  be  universally  encouraged  and 
supported ;  never  will  the  religious  portion  of  the  community  give 
it  their  countenance  and  favor.  Let  Managers  say  what  they 
will,  if  it  requires  the  alluren?ent  of  these  "  painted  sepulchres" 
to  make  the  theatre  attractive,  belter  that  the  drama  should  perish, 
than  virtuous  women  should  be  compelled  to  mingle  with  the 
harlots  that  brush  past  them  in  the  lobbies.  We  do  not  believe 
in  the  truth  of  the  poet's  couplet : — 

**  Vice  is  a  monster  of  such  hideous  mien. 
That  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen." 

The  strong  prejudice,  and  it  is  a  natural  one,  of  a  large  portion 
of  the  community,  arises,  not  from  the  uses,  but  the  abuses  of  the 
stage ;  that  the  feeling  exists  is  sufficiently  evident. 

In  every  temple  dedicated  to  the  fine  arts,  all  breaches  of  de- 
corum are  carefully  guarded  against,  and  why  this  branch  of 
them,  perhaps  the  most  popular  of  all,  should  be  subject  to  the 
just  reproach  of  many,  is  indeed  remarkable. 

There  is  no  excuse  to  be  offered  by  managers,  except  that  it  is 
a  custom  ;  but  one  "  more  honored  in  the  breach  than  the  observ- 
ance," it  most  surely  is. — One  only  in  New  York,  has  had  the 
independence  to  abolish  this  most  odious  feature  or  rather  blot 
upon  the  face  of  decency,  the  "  third  tier."  So  long  as  any 
manager  allows  this  nuisance  to  exist,  so  long  will  there  be  a 
well  grounded  objection  to  visit  the  theatre,  as  a  place  of  moral 


OR,  A   PEEP   BEHIND  THE   CURTAIN.  165 

instruction  or  intellectual  amusement.  The  mind  will  instinc- 
tively associate  the  real  with  the  ideal,  and  while  rapt  in  a  dream 
of  enthusiasm  at  a  fictitious  representation  of  virtue,  it  turns  and 
recognizes  at  a  glance  the  real  monster,  vice,  within  the  range  of 
its  vision.  We  are  gratified  to  perceive  that  a  reformation  has 
commenced  in  one  of  our  cities,  that  argues  well  for  the  good 
taste  and  morality  of  its  authorities.  The  new  theatre  recently 
erected  in  the  city  of  Boston,  among  other  excellent  regulations, 
excludes  from  its  walls  all  females  unattended,  or  in  other  words, 
refuses  to  make  a  temple,  erected  for  the  purpose  of  intellectual 
instruction,  pander  to  the  worst  passions  of  our  nature.  For  the 
welfare  of  virtue  and  humanity,  we  hope  this  precedent  will  be 
widely  followed,  for  every  one  who  sincerely  desires  the  advance- 
ment of  the  drama  to  its  legitimate  uses,  will  rejoice  at  this  long 
needed  reform. 

There  is  still  another  obstacle  to  the  advancement  of  our  stage, 
which,  though  comparatively  small,  is  so  absurd  and  oppressive 
as  to  render  it  worthy  of  notice.  We  allude  to  the  law  which 
subjects  every  manager  to  the  payment  of  a  certain  sum  for  a  li- 
cense to  enact  plays. 

Whether  theatrical  exhibitions  are  calculated  to  advance  the 
cause  of  morality  or  otherwise,  we  shall  not  hazard  an  opinion ; 
but  if  they  be  not,  the  payment  of  five  hundred  dollars,  or  any 
other  sum,  for  the  privilege  of  performing  pieces,  seems  to  us  to 
be  but  a  purchase  of  a  right  to  do  wrong. 

If  our  wise  legislators  regard  the  stage  as  an  evil,  let  them 
abolish  it  altogether,  instead  of  placing  a  tax  on  vice  ;  if  other- 
wise, let  them  remove  this  odious  and  oppressive  burden,  which 
rests  exclusively  on  one  profession. 

We  have  not  unfrequently  heard  it  contended,  that  managers 
should  not  be  subjected  to  the  control  of  the  press,  but  in  our  opi- 
nion, the  government  itself  might  with  propriety  extend  its  direc- 
tion towards  the  theatre,  for  we  are  satisfied  that  it  might  be  made 


166  THE  actor; 

a  powerful  engine  for  good  or  evil.  In  France,  where  the  stand- 
ard of  morality  is  low  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  depraved  mind, 
the  presence  of  abandoned  women  in  the  boxes  of  the  theatre  is 
altogether  unknown,  while  in  America,  where  we  follow  with  ser- 
vile imitation,  the  customs  and  vices  of  England,  a  theatre  without 
a  third  tier  for  the  use  of  prostitutes,  has  never  been  in  existence. 

In  America  we  have  long  been  in  the  habit  of  relying  on  the 
opinions  and  judgment  of  others,  instead  of  our  own.  Native 
merit  requires  the  stamp  of  England  to  give  it  currency. 

Let  any  actor,  no  matter  what  may  be  his  position  or  rank  in 
Europe,  land  upon  our  soil  and  announce  himself  on  the  bills  in 
large  type,  with  the  magic  words,  "  From  Drury  Lane  and  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatres,"  preceded  by  a  few  stereotyped  puffs,  and 
in  every  city  in  the  Union  where  there  is  a  theatre,  he  can  shine 
as  a  star  of  extraordinary  magnitude. 

Our  critics  never  discovered  the  ability  of  the  Cushmans 
until  they  went  to  Europe,  and  on  their  return,  we  may  confidently 
anticipate  that  the  Park  Theatre  will  not  be  found  sufficiently  ca- 
pacious to  contain  the  crowds  that  will  welcome  them  in  their 
"  newly  gained  honors."  Indeed,  we  do  not  recollect  ever  having 
seen  the  name  of  Susan  Cushman  in  the  play  bills  on  more  than 
one  or  two  occasions. 

It  has  been  nearly  the  same  with  Forrest.  His  Shaksperian 
performances  are  by  many  pronounced  faultless,  since  his  return 
from  Europe,  when  in  fact  he  is  no  better  actor  now  than  pre- 
vious to  his  departure,  and  we  doubt  if  he  ever  will  be.  The  fine 
and  delicate  sinuosities  of  Hamlet's  philosophy  do  not  find  a  per- 
fect delineation  in  his  performance,  while  in  Macbeth,  he  sinks 
almost  to  mediocrity  when  compared  with  the  elder  Vandenhoff 
or  Macready  ;  however  great  may  be  the  praise  awarded  him  for 
his  representation  of  King  Lear,  with  the  exception  of  the  curse 
at  the  end  of  the  first  act  (which  he  gives  with  extraordinary 


I 


OR,   A   PEEP   BEHIND   THE   CURTAIN.  167 

energy  and  effect),  and  the  last  scene,  in  which  his  restoration  of 
the  original  text  is  highly  commendable  to  his  judgment,  we  do 
not  consider  it  a  master  effort. 

We  recollect  many  years  since,  while  sitting  in  the  Park  The- 
atre, witnessing  Mr.  Forrest's  Lear,  hearing  a  celebrated  Ameri- 
can comedian  make  the  remark,  "  Why,  the  man  shakes  as  if  he 
had  the  ague,"  to  which  a  wag  at  his  elbow  replied,  "  Well,  it's 
iSAaArspere  that  he's  doing,^' 

While  we  are  on  the  subject  of  native  actors,  we  are  reminded 
of  the  unfortunate  Charles  H.  Eaton,  who,  a  few  years  since,  gave 
promise  of  a  most  brilliant  career. 

Mr.  Eaton  was  a  native  of  Boston,  and  when  remarkably 
young,  manifested  the  possession  of  extraordinary  ability.  We 
recollect  his  performance  of  Richard  the  Third,  at  the  Park 
Theatre,  soon  after  his  d^but.  It  was  during  the  summer  months, 
when  "the  world  was  out  of  town."  Not  over  a  dozen  persons 
were  present,  and  the  larger  proportion  of  those  were  in  the  pit. 
We  happened  to  be  among  the  number.  We  had  taken  our  seat 
previous  to  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  and  not  a  breath  of  pure  air 
was  allowed  to  interfere  with  the  thick  and  poisonous  atmosphere, 
which  sundry  lamps  and  closed  windows  had  produced.  None 
but  an  inveterate  lover  of  theatricals  could  have  endured  it,  but 
being  comparatively  a  novice,  we  were  willing  to  suffer  martyr- 
dom in  the  cause. 

The  curtain  rose,  and  King  Henry,  with  a  discretion  that  did 
honor  to  his  feelings,  curtailed  his  long  speeches  of  half  their 
"fair  proportions."  The  scene  changed,  and  Gloster  entered. 
A  volley  of  applause  echoed  from  the  determined  dozen,  adown 
whose  cheeks  rolled  rivers  of  perspiration.  Like  Othello,  they 
were  indeed  in  the  "  melting  mood." 

The  opening  soliloquy  reminded  us  strongly  of  Booth,  upon  whose 
acting  Eaton  had  evidently  founded  his  style.  There  was  the  same 
determined  step,  and  deep  emphatic  tone  of  voice.     His  gestures, 


168  THE   ACTOR  ; 

like  Booth's,  were  appropriate,  and  his  altitudes  at  once  graceful 
and  imposing.  Regardless  of  the  "  beggarly  account  of  empty 
boxes,"  Eaton  did  not  relax  his  exertions,  but  went  manfully 
through  the  part.  Occasionally,  he  was  rewarded  by  all  the 
applause  that  so  limited  an  audience  could  bestow,  and  though  he 
probably  experienced  none  of  that  determination  which  the 
presence  of  a  larger  attendance  might  have  inspired,  he  con- 
tinued to  the  close,  without  any  diminution  of  energy  or  effect. 

There  seems  to  be  almost  a  fatality  in  the  lives  of  great  trage- 
dians. As  we  have  already  alluded  to  the  subject,  however,  in 
another  part  of  this  work,  we  will  not  tire  the  reader  by  a  repeti- 
tion, but  merely  remark  that  Mr.  Eaton  accustomed  himself  to 
habits  of  inordinate  indulgence,  which  resulted  in  his  premature 
death. 

On  his  way  to  Cincinnati,  he  stopped  at  Pittsburgh,  and  applied 
to  Flynn,  who  was  then  manager  of  the  theatre  in  that  city,  for 
an  engagement  of  six  nights,  being  short  of  funds,  and  anxious  to 
reach  his  family.  Flynn  engaged  him,  and  the  first  night  he 
played  with  success.  At  the  second  rehearsal,  he  came  to  the 
theatre  intoxicated,  and  Flynn,  who,  from  experience,  knew  the 
evils  resulting  from  over  indulgence,  remonstrated  with  him,  de- 
claring that,  if  he  repeated  the  offence,  he  would  not  allow  him 
to  perform.  Eaton  promised  amendment,  and  was  sober  until 
the  play  was  over,  when  Flynn  discovered  him  in  a  bar-room, 
with  a  glass  of  liquor  in  his  hand.  Flynn  again  remonstrated, 
and  Eaton  asked  forgiveness. 

While  on  his  way  to  his  lodgings,  he  encountered  a  brother 
player,  who  invited  him  to  take  a  social  glass  at  a  neighboring 
tavern.  It  required  but  little  persuasion  to  make  him  consent, 
and  they  both  became  intoxicated.  Eaton  came  home  reeling, 
and  a  servant  conducted  him  to  his  room.  In  endeavoring  to  open 
the  door,  he  staggered  against  a  railing  around  the  balcony  of  the 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  169 

house,  which  gave  way,  and  he  was  precipitated  head  foremost  to 
the  pavement  below,  a  distance  of  thirty  feet. 

Physicians  were  immediately  sent  for,  and  at  the  expiration  of 
three  days,  during  which  period  he  was  senseless,  he  arose  from 
his  bed,  and  for  the  first  time  since  his  accident,  spoke  :  "  Where 
is  my  wife  ?  my  wi " — and  with  the  half- uttered  word  upon  his 
lips,  fell  backwards  and  expired. 

Eaton,  to  our  mind,  was  the  most  promising  actor  that  this 
country  ever  produced,  but  he  died  before  time  had  ripened  those 
powers  which  gave  earnest  of  future  excellence. 

We  have  already  alluded  to  the  deficiency  of  study  and  appli- 
cation which  characterizes  the  great  proportion  of,  if  not  all, 
American  actors.  Each  seems  to  have  made  Mr.  Forrest  his  heau 
ideal,  and,  as  is  generally  the  case  with  imitators,  each  copies 
all  his  faults,  and  but  few  of  his  merits.  All  seem  to  think  that 
the  chief  beauty  in  a  performance  is  making  a  noise,  and  to  do 
them  justice,  in  this  they  are  entirely  successful.  The  contracted 
brow,  the  extended  arm,  the  clenched  hand,  the  gigantic  stride, 
and  unnatural  shake,  are  imitated  with  unerring  fidelity,  while 
passages  of  beauty  and  soliloquies  pregnant  with  sentiment  and 
feeling,  are  slurred  over  and  disregarded,  from  very  want  of 
conception  of  the  part.  If  the  actor's  art  be  "  to  hold,  as  't  were, 
the  mirror  up  to  nature,"  how  lamentably  deficient  are  those  to 
whom  we  refer,  in  all  the  elements  that  constitute  a  perfect 
actor. 

The  extraordinary  representations  of  Shakspere,  at  some  of 
our  theatres,  are  enough  to  summon  the  shade  of  the  poet  to 
protest  against  so  wretched  a  burlesque  of  his  glorious  imagin- 
ings. 

Every  principle  of  congruity  is  set  at  defiance.  Regardless  of 
time  and  place,  the  characters  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time  are 
dressed  according  to  the  costume  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Hamlet^    a    Danish    Prince,  who  lived    many  hundred    years 

8 


17Q  THE   ACTOR. 

ago,  comes  forth  adorned  with  glass  beads  and  black  velvet; 
Macbeth  flourishes  in  a  dress,  worth  all  the  wealth  of  Scotland,  in 
the  time  of  the  Thane  of  Cawdor;  the  armies  of  Rome  and  Eng- 
land consist  of  a  half  dozen  superannuated  individuals  ;  and  the 
authors  for  the  theatres,  usurping  the  pen  of  the  dramatist,  are 
allowed  to  compress  five  acts  into  three,  and  to  disregard  all  laws 
of  unity  and  every  principle  of  dramatic  composition. 

We  were  much  amused  one  evening  at  the  performance  of 
Knowles'  play  of  "  William  Tell."  The  principal  character  was 
represented  by  an  individual  whose  powers  of  physique,  in  the 
estimation  of  the  audience,  amply  atoned  for  any  want  of 
mental  ability.  The  piece  was  compressed  into  three  acts,  and 
in  the  scene  where  he  is  to  shoot  at  the  apple  on  his  son's  head, 
he  made  six  abortive  attempts  to  send  the  arrow  from  the  bow. 
Discouraged  by  his  repeated  failures,  he  finally  threw  the  arrow, 
by  sleight  of  hand,  without  the  aid  of  the  bow,  and,  instead  of 
hitting  the  intended  object,  struck  the  head  of  a  defenceless  youth 
in  the  pit,  entirely  unprepared  for  the  part  of  Albert  thus  uncercn 
moniously  thrust  upon  him,  while  the  real  son  was  ushered  in 
amidst  shouts  and  hurras  at  his  miraculous  escape.  No  doubt  he 
was  among  the  first  to  congratulate  himself  on  going  Scoit  free. 


171 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Mrs.  Charles  Kean — Her  first  efforts— Engagement  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
— Appearance  at  Covent  Garden — Her  success — Her  performance  of 
Ion— Opinions  of  a  critic — Dibut  in  America — Return  to  England — Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Kean  at  the  Park  Theatre — Mrs.  Kean's  performance  of  Viola 
and  Rosalind — Causes  of  success— Her  Julia,  in  the  "  Hunchback"— Her 
Beatrice— Opinion  of  William  Leggett — Mrs.  Kean's  peculiar  qualifica- 
tions for  an  actress — Commercial  Revulsion  of  1837 — Its  effects  on  the 
drama — Lardner  on  the  system  of  Stars — Lectures  vs.  the  Legitimate — 
The  Drama  a  means  of  moral  instruction — "  Defence  of  the  Stage." 

Among  the  galaxy  of  stars  that  have  shone  in  our  theatrical  hemi- 
sphere, none  have  shed  more  brilliancy  upon  the  stage  than  Ellen 
Tree  (now  Mrs.  Charles  Kean). 

Her  chaste  and  beautiful  personations  of  some  of  Shakspere's 
most  delightful  conceptions  of  female  character,  among  which  are 
Viola,  Rosalind,  Juliet  and  Portia,  can  never  fade  from  the  memory 
of  those  who  have  witnessed  her  efforts,  whilst  in  the  higher  walks 
of  tragedy,  she  has  won  that  high  praise  to  which  she  is  emi- 
nently entitled. 

Her  performance  o^  Mrs,  Beverly  in  the  "  Gamester"  is  every 
way  worthy  of  her  reputation,  evincing  a  depth  of  feeling  and 
pathos  rarely  equalled  and  never  excelled. 

We  have  understood  that  Mrs.  Kean's  attention  was  first  turned 
to  the  stage  in  consequence  of  the  success  of  her  sister  Maria,  who 
had  obtained  great  celebrity  in  light  comedy  and  melodrama. 

After  performing  some  time  with  her  sister  at  Bath  and  Bir- 


172  THE  actor; 

mingham,  sustaining  the  leading  parts  in  comedy  with  great 
success,  she  was  engaged  at  Drury  Lane  in  1827,  during  which 
season  she  played  Lady  Teazle^  Viola,  and  various  other  charac- 
ters. 

She  afterwards  accepted  an  engagement  at  Cbvent  Garden, 
where  she  made  her  first  effort  in  tragedy,  in  the  character  of 
Frangoise,  in  Fanny  Kemble  play  of  "  Francis  the  First ;"  she 
shortly  after  appeared  as  Julia,  in  Knowles'  play  of  the  "  Hunch- 
back," which  she  repeated  twenty-eight  nights. 

Its  success  induced  the  author  to  write  another  play,  in  which 
she  might  support  the  leading  part.  The  "  Wife"  was  produced, 
and  played  successfully  for  fifty-two  consecutive  nights. 

Miss  Tree  had  now  the  stream  of  public  favor  at  the  flood, 
which  has  since  carried  her  to  fame  and  fortune ;  her  subsequent 
appearance  in  Lady  Macbeth  and  Ion  established  her  reputation 
as  a  correct  and  classical  actress. 

Her  performance  of  the  latter  character  has  been  so  frequently 
criticised  and  commended  that  any  remarks  of  our  own  might  be 
considered  superfluous ;  we  will,  however,  subjoin  the  following 
from  the  pen  of  an  able  critic,  in  whose  judgment  we  repose  the 
utmost  confidence : — 

"  The  manner  in  which  that  character  was  played  by  Ellen 
Tree  would  allow  us  to  imagine  her  imbued  with  the  ancient 
notions  of  Fate.  It  was  not  merely  an  elegant  modern  reading 
of  an  antique  creed,  but  a  direct  embodiment  of  a  personage  in 
whom  that  belief  was  deeply  and  religiously  implanted.  Hence, 
there  was  a  holy  warmth  expressed  in  the  acting,  that  gave  the 
Ion  a  perfect  verisimilitude  of  a  youth  nurtured  within  the  walls 
of  a  temple  of  that  religion.  Hence,  also,  as  it  is  not  attended 
with  the  violent  action  and  delivery  which  is  the  frequent  cause  of 
stage  effect,  it  required  to  be  examined,  and  the  performance  1o  be 
witnessed  more  than  once,  before  all  the  inherent  beauties  could 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  173 

be  elicited.  The  acting  of  Miss  Tree  in  this  character  was  be- 
yond all  praise,  and  entitled  her  to  the  term,  in  the  utmost  rigor 
of  its  meaning,  of  a  classical  actress." 

On  the  12th  December,  1836,  she  made  her  first  appearance 
in  America,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  as  Rosalind  in  "  As 
you  Like  it."  She  afterwards  appeared  as  Lady  Townley  in  the 
"  Provoked  Husband,"  as  Letitia  Hardy  in  the  "  Belle's  Strata- 
gem," as  Julia  in  the  "  Hunchback,"  and  in  various  other  cha- 
racters, in  all  of  which  she  elicited  the  highest  encomiums  from 
immense  audiences.  After  having  made  a  professional  tour  of 
all  the*  principal  cities  of  the  United  States,  "  winning  golden 
opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people,"  and  adding  increased  lustre  to 
a  name  already  bright,  she  left  for  England  in  the  summer  of 
1838.  She  returned  to  this  country  in  1845,  having  in  the  mean- 
time married  Mr.  Charles  Kean.  Their  reception  in  New  York 
on  the  Park  boards,  where  they  made  their  first  appearance  after 
their  return,  was  most  flattering.  During  this  engagement,  they 
played  a  variety  of  parts  both  in  tragedy  and  comedy,  always 
commanding  full  houses. 

In  a  certain  line  of  characters,  Mrs.  Kean  is  unequalled  by  any 
actress  who  has  appeared  on  the  American  stage.  Her  Viola  in 
the  "  Twelfth  Night,"  and  Rosalind  in  "  As  you  Like  it,"  are  ex- 
hibitions in  the  histrionic  art,  that  can  never  die  in  the  memory 
of  those  judges  of  acting  who  have  beheld  them. 

It  is  in  the  nicer  shades, — the  back-ground,  as  it  were,  of  the 
picture,  that  she  excels  her  competitors  in  the  cast  of  characters 
to  which  we  have  referred. 

One  cause  of  her  success,  we  think,  may  be  attributed  to  the 
complete  abandonment  of  herself  in  the  part  she  is  representing. 
She  feels  the  character. 

It  appears  to  be  a  difficult  matter  for  the  heroes  and  heroines 
of  the  "  sock  and  buskin"  to  forget  themselves  in  their  persona- 

8* 


174  THE   ACTOR  } 

tions ;  indeed  some  of  them  seem  to  fear  that  in  making  their 
great  points,  the  audience  may  so  far  lose  sight  of  them,  in  the 
interest  excited  by  the  play,  as  to  overlook  the  person  to  whom 
they  are  indebted  for  the  scenic  illusion,  and  accordingly  they 
give  their  performance  such  a  stamp  of  personality  as  effectually 
to  prevent  their  being  mistaken  for  the  character  assumed. 

We  have  particularized  Mrs.  Kean's  Viola  and  Rosalind^  be- 
cause they  are  portraitures  in  the  dramatic  art  on  which  the 
memory  loves  to  linger ;  but  there  are  many  other  parts  in  which 
she  is  equally  happy.  Her  Julia  in  the  "  Hunchback," 
considering  it  as  an  entire  performance,  is  not  inferior  to  the 
representation  of  that  character  by  the  gifted  Fanny  Kemble^ 
whose  secession  from  the  stage  every  lover  of  the  histrionic  art 
cannot  but  sincerely  deplore. 

Of  her  Beatrice,  in  "  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,"  that  astute 
critic  in  theatrical  matters,  the  late  William  Leggett,  said : — 

"  Other  actresses  have  given  us  particular  traits  of  her  charac- 
ter with  liveliness  and  effect ;  but  Miss  Tree  infuses  life  and  soul 
in  them  all,  and  combines  them  into  one  with  inimitable  harmony 
and  grace." 

Among  the  numerous  qualifications  for  her  profession  of  which 
Mrs.  Kean  is  possessed,  is  her  beautiful  and  melodious  voice,  the 
plaintive  tones  of  which,  in  passages  of  tenderness,  appeal  directly 
to  the  heart,  and  the  language  of  joyousness,  in  falling  from  her 
lips,  lias  a  richness  and  vivacity  which  is  as  pleasing  as  it  is  in- 
describable. 

The  last  engagement  of  the  Keans  at  the  Park  Theatre  was 
an  evidence  of  the  estimation  in  which  Mrs.  Kean  is  held  in  this 
country,  the  house  being  nightly  crowded  from  pit  to  dome,  al- 
though they  appeared  in  a  round  of  characters  which  have  been 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN*  175 

repeated  on  various  occasions  at  the  same  establishment,  within 
a  few  months. 

It  also  serves  to  evince  the  fact  that,  however  much  the  drama 
may  have  declined  in  latter  years,  the  taste  for  theatrical  repre- 
sentations is  still  deep  and  almost  universal. 

The  commercial  revulsion  of  1837,  which  spread  like  a  hurri- 
cane through  the  land,  affected  every  branch  of  the  arts.  So 
blighting  was  its  influence  upon  theatricals,  that  in  the  opinion  of 
many,  they  received  a  shock  from  which  they  would  never  re- 
cover. But  they  misjudged;  the  craving  that  people  have  for 
recreation  is  too  fully  satisfied  by  the  stage  to  allow  its  extinction 
or  permanent  decline,  while  the  light  of  education  is  spread 
abroad.  As  a  legal  gentleman  once  expressed  it :  "  Theatricals 
have  their  foundation  in  the  nature  of  things." 

While  the  theatre  was  comparatively  deserted,  several  species 
of  amusement  were  offered  in  their  place ;  among  which  were 
concerts  and  lectures,  the  friends  of  the  latter  confidently  asserting 
that  the  day  for  the  mimic  scene  was  past. 

The  Park  Theatre,  itself,  was  used  by  Doctor  Lardner  as  a 
Lecture-room,  where  he  illustrated  the  Starring  system  with 
great  satisfaction  to  himself  and  the  public.  But,  however  useful 
lectures  may  be,  they  will  not  answer  as  a  substitute  for  the  in- 
struction and  enjoyment  derived  from  visiting  a  well  regulated 
theatre. 

Within  a  year  or  two  past,  the  taste  for  the  drama  has  revived, 
giving  evidence  of  our  recovery  from  the  financial  shock  to  which 
we  have  adverted,  and  proving  that  the  public  appreciate  an  art 
which  unites  amusement  with  instruction ;  we  hope  it  will  not 
be  in  our  day,  that  prejudice  or  fanaticism  will  destroy  one  of 
the  most  ancient  and  intellectual  institutions. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  amidst  all  the  warfare  waged 
against  the  stage,  its  opponents  attack  their  collateral  abuses, 
totally  irrelevant,  and  "  from  the  purpose  of  playing ;"  they  can 


176  THE  actor; 

render  no  firm  reason  why  moral  instruction  cannot  be  conveyed 
from  the  stage,  as  well  as  from  the  sacred  desk ;  why  a  living 
and  breathing  personation  of  a  great  vice,  or  a  great  virtue,  may 
not  affect  us  as  deeply  and  sensibly  as  the  cold  and  studied  decla- 
mation,  delivered  between  waking  and  sleeping  in  a  lecture-room. 
It  was  the  remark  of  a  celebrated  clergyman,  that  in  witnessing 
the  representation  of  Macbeth,  he  was  more  fully  taught  the  terri- 
ble retribution  attending  the  violation  of  the  commandment  "  Thou 
shalt  do  no  murder,"  than  he  could  hope  to  convey  by  a  dozen 
sermons.  Let  the  opposition  to  the  abuses  connected  with  the 
stage  be  continued,  until  they  are  reformed ;  let  it  no  longer  be 
subject  to  a  stigma  not  rightfully  belonging  to  it,  and  it  will  rise 
to  an  eminence  too  lofly  for  detraction,  too  pure  for  reproach. 

The  following  eloquent  extract  from  the  "  Defence  of  the 
Stage"  is  too  just  to  be  omitted  in  this  place. 

"  From  all  I  can  collect  upon  the  subject,  by  reading,  discus- 
sion, observation,  and  experience,  I  feel  myself  authorised  to 
affirm,  that  a  well  regulated  stage  would  be  ever  serviceable  to 
mankind,  an  able  assistant  of  religion,  a  strong  stimulus  to  mo- 
rality, a  rigid  inculcator  to  virtue,  a  soother  and  corrector  of  the 
vindictive  passions,  a  moderator  and  promoter  of  the  gentler  ones, 
and  a  powerful  agent  in  the  hands  of  a  wise  legislator  for  forming 
a  nation  to  everything  great  and  goodJ^ 


177 


CHAPTER  THE  LAST. 

Desultory  reflections — Mr.  Booth's  career  on  the  stage — His  abilities  as  an 
actor  considered — His  eccentricities — Thoughts  on  Genius — Concluding 
observations. 

In  bringing  this  work  to  a  conclusion,  we  are  conscious  that  there 
is  much  in  the  history  of  Mr.  Booth's  life  that  remains  to  be 
written,  and  more  in  those  of  his  contemporaries,  to  which  we 
have  not  even  alluded. 

The  career  of  almost  any  actor  of  eminence  would  supply  ma- 
terial for  a  more  elaborate  production  than  the  imperfect  one 
which  we  submit  to  the  public ;  the  hindrances  to  youthful  am- 
bition, the  lonely  hours  of  intense  study,  the  difficulties  attending 
the  early  efforts  of  the  player,  the  jealousies  and  rivalries  engen- 
dered, with  their  long  train  of  concomitant  evils,  are  subjects  with 
which  almost  every  performer  is  acquainted. 

When  we  reflect  how  few,  among  the  multitudinous  number  of 
individuals  who  have  sought  reputation  or  profit  in  the  histrionic 
art,  have  risen  to  eminence,  the  conviction  is  irresistible,  that 
without  the  most  superior  qualifications  of  mental  and  physical 
ability,  success  is  unattainable.  One,  among  the  few,  is  Mr. 
Booth. 

-  At  his  dehut  he  was  assailed  with  all  the  virulence  and  abuse 
that  the  most  rancorous  enmity  and  hostility  could  suggest.  The 
extraordinary  favor  with  which  the  Kembles  were  regarded,  the 
high  position  which  they  occupied  in  public  favor,  and  the  hold 


178  THE   ACTOR  ; 

they  had  acquired  upon  the  minds  of  the  patrons  of  the  drama  in 
favor  of  their  peculiar  style  of  acting,  were  anything  but  favora- 
ble to  the  advent  of  a  new  star  in  the  theatrical  firmament,  which, 
instead  of  shedding  one  long  and  continuous  ray  of  light,  revealed, 
in  quick  succession,  an  interminable  number  of  flashes  that  irra- 
diated the  whole  horizon ;  or  to  drop  the  metaphor,— an  actor 
that  startled  and  electrified  his  audience  by  sudden  and  unex- 
pected flashes  of  intellectual  brightness,  by  bold  and  rapid  mani- 
festations of  mental  power,  and  by  a  confident  reliance  on  nature 
for  a  guide,  rather  than  on  studied  and  formal  attitudes,  and 
mechanical  gesticulation. 

Mr.  Booth,  however,  commanded  admiration,  and  without  re- 
sorting to  the  usual  methods  of  securing  approbation  and  applause 
by  the  aid  of  splendid  dresses  and  stage  tricks,  won  an  imperish- 
able fame.  Like  the  wand  of  Midas,  that  converted  everything 
it  touched  to  gold,  so  in  the  crucible  of  Booth's  genius,  every 
character  that  he  attempted,  came  forth  redolent  of  excellence. 

His  beautifully  modulated  voice,  clear,  distinct,  and  sonorous, — 
his  expressive  eye,  that  revealed  more  than  any  words  could  con- 
vey, and  his  appropriate  and  graceful  gesticulation,  rendered  all 
his  impersonations  interesting  and  admirable. 

In  tender  passages,  the  mournful  and  touching  cadences  of  his 
voice  appealed  directly  to  the  heart,  and  in  the  representation  of 
sterner  passages,  his  acting  approximated  to  the  sublime. 

In  depicting  violent  rage,  or  unrelenting  hate — in  the  portrayal 
of  bold  and  romantic  villainy,  in  exhibiting  the  satisfaction  of 
triumphant  revenge,  or  the  terrific  workings  of  despair,  he  never 
had  a  superior,  and  even  now,  at  his  mature  age,  though  but  a 
faint  semblance  of  what  he  was,  he  is  the  only  living  representa- 
tive of  Richard,  Sir  Giles  Overreach,  and  lago. 

Mr.  Booth's  career  off  the  stage  has  rendered  him  liable  to  the 
charge  of  eccentricity.  It  were  in  vain,  however,  to  attempt  to 
account  for  the  idiosyncrasies  of  genius.     The  "  one  step  from 


OR,  A  PEEP  BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN.  179 

the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous"  is  not  shorter  than  the  distance 
from  the  highest  and  most  sublimated  degree  of  intellectuality,  to 
madness  itself. 

There  is  a  point  of  human  knowledge,  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "  at 
which  reason  and  madness  begin  to  mingle."  The  mind  that 
broods  over  its  own  thoughts  ;  that  lives  in  a  world  of  its  own  cre- 
ation ;  that  pictures  in  its  own  imagination  the  ideal  forms  of  the 
poet ;  that,  in  the  dreamy  languor  of  poetical  reverie,  fritters  away 
the  hours,  unconscious  of  the  living  and  breathing  beings  around 
it ;  that  fashions  its  own  world  all  couleur  de  rose^  and  peoples  it 
with  the  misty  creations  of  a  rapt  and  excited  fancy,  can  hardly 
be  expected  to  regard  the  dull  and  prosaic  common-places  of  life 
with  the  same  feelings  as  your  cold  and  calculating  philosopher, 
who  sees  things,  not  as  he  would  have  them,  but  as  they  are. 

It  is  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  genius  to  find  no  sympathy, 
for  it  seeks  none,  with  a  cold  and  uncongenial  world.  Enveloped 
in  the  solitude  of  its  own  high  thoughts — rapt  in  its  own  bright 
visions,  its  glorious  aspirations  for  some  undefined  and  unattained 
object,  it  goes  forward  on  its  mission,  to  encounter  but  disappoint- 
ment and  defeat  Sensitive  to  the  last  degree,  it  meets  with  rude 
rebuffs  ;  with  the  most  enlarged  and  liberal  sympathies,  it  finds  no 
congenial  association  around  it.  Its  object  is  aimless,  but  it  longs 
for  something  unattained.  It  looks  forward,  full  of  hope,  but  it 
knows  not  wherefore  ;  it  would  rend  the  impenetrable  veil  of  the 
future  to  discover  some  response  to  its  undefined  but  measureless 
aspirations ;  it  is  the  great  and  insatiable  craving  of  the  soul 
which  this  world  cannot  satisfy. 

In  the  mazy  labyrinth  of  its  bewildering  thoughts,  it  sometimes 
"  o'erleaps  itself  and  falls  on  the  other  side"  of  reason,  where, 
with  madness  mixed,  like  lago's  invention,  "  it  plucks  out  brains 
and  all.'^ 

The  dull  machinery  of  life,  with  all  its  petty  annoyances,  falls 
like  a  leaden  weight  upon  its  spirit — a  thousand  imaginary  terrors 


180  THE   ACTOR. 

possess  it,  until,  lost  and  bewildered  in  the  strange  and  discordant 
dream  which  its  own  excited  fancy  has  engendered,  it  seeks  for 
refuge  and  forgetfulness  in  the  depths  of  the  intoxicating  bowl, 
and  often  in  death  itself. 

Let  not  the  cold  and  rigid  moralist  condemn  with  unsparing 
censure  the  infirmities  of  noble  minds.  Who  shall  say  what 
"  floods  of  memoried  bitterness  "  they  have  passed  through  ;  what 
stiflings  of  the  "  mighty  hunger  of  the  heart "  they  have  endured ; 
what  warm  and  glowing  feelings  have  been  chilled  ;  what  tender 
sensibilities  have  been  deadened  by  the  rude  jostle  of  an  unfeeling 
world  ? 

There  are  more  motives  to  action  in  the  breast  of  man  than 
philosophy  has  yet  discovered.  Could  we  look  into  the  hearts  of 
men,  we  are  confident  there  would  be  found  no  dark  and  "  damned 
spot "  in  that  of  Junius  Brutus  Booth. 


THE   END. 


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